The Shepherd to Heaven
by MNtoSoCal
Summary: Sequel to 'Death in the Family'. People say that the universe has a way of fixing itself, making things right again. A part of her always knew she wasn't meant to be in Kentucky. A new case bring B/B to Kentucky, reuniting them with a familiar soul.
1. Prologue

**~SEQUEL TO DEATH IN THE FAMILY~**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Bones, and I am not affiliated with Fox in any way, despite how much I wish I was.**

PROLOGUE:

The lights were bright...too bright, causing her eyes to slam back shut and her other senses to dominate. An overwhelming smell of chemicals tickled at her nostrils. She felt confined, claustrophobic. A loud, steady beeping noise was intensifying the pain in her head. She was cold, and her entire body ached. Panic began to set in and she threw open her eyes to assess her surroundings.

The fluorescent lights burned her eyes, but she forced them to remain open. She was in a white room, connected to a bunch of machines. The beeping noise made began to make sense: a hospital. Despite being covered by a blanket, the cold air caused her to shiver violently. She tried to move to pull up the blanket, but found that her movement was restricted. A sharp pain shot up her right side, causing her to scream in agony.

Hearing the noise, a nurse ran into the room to check on her. "Glad to see that your beautiful hazel eyes have decided to grace us with their presence, hun."

She merely forced a smile at the nurse. The nurse was in her 40's. She was a short, stout black woman who oozed charm. She was one of those friendly and sweet family women. The motherly kind that made everyone feel special.

"You appear to be doing much better," the nurse said to her strawberry blonde haired patient. "We thought we were going to lose you there for a while. Didn't look good for you, no it didn't."

She remained silent, intently watching the nurse check her injuries.

"My name is Maggie, darlin'," the nurse said. "What's yours?"

She didn't answer.

"Honey, we got some police officers here that would like to question you, whenever you're up for it," Maggie said, lightly trying to make conversation. "You were out for about a week and a half, hun. We weren't sure you were ever going to wake up. Here, let me go get the doctor. I'm sure he'll want to come check up on you and talk to you about your prognosis."

She merely nodded and watched as Maggie walked out of the room. A few minutes later, Maggie walked back in with a man, presumably the doctor.

"Hello there," the man said. "I'm Dr. Auge. Care to tell me what your name is?"

Again, she didn't answer. She remained silent as she studied the doctor.

Maggie walked up next to the bed and set some beautiful yellow flowers onto the bedside table, then nodded her head toward them. "Yellow Troutlily. Rare in these parts of the country, but they do grow naturally."

She smiled at the nurse.

Maggie smiled back and placed her hand on her patient's arm. "Honey, do you remember your name?"

She shook her head. No, she didn't remember her name. She watched as the doctor made a note in the file he was holding.

"That's alright, honey," Maggie said. "I'll just call you Rosemary for now."

She threw a questioning glance at Maggie.

"Rosemary is an herb known for improving memory," Maggie explained. "It seems fitting."

"_Hamlet_," she said, the first word she uttered since coming to.

"What was that, hun?" Maggie asked.

"It's Shakespeare," she answered. "In his play, _Hamlet_, Ophelia has a line about rosemary. She says, 'There's rosemary, that's for remembrance'."

"Very intelligent," Maggie mused.

"I like the name Rosemary," she admitted and smiled sheepishly at Maggie.

"Then, Rosemary it is," the doctor smiled. "Now, since you can't remember your name, can you tell me what you _do _remember?"

Rosemary sat in silence, trying to think back. Nothing was coming to her. She shook her head.

"That's okay, hun," Maggie assured her. "We'll work on that."

"What happened to me?" Rosemary asked.

"All we know is that you were found on the side of the road by a passing truck driver," the doctor began to explain. "You were unconscious, barely breathing. You had a collapsed lung from a stab wound. You also had quite a few broken ribs, one of them perforated the same lung that was injured from the stab wound. Your stomach was pretty cut up, but it was healing. Wounds weren't too deep, but they were infected."

Rosemary was silent, processing all of this information. Then she said something the doctor wasn't expecting. "I'd like to take a look at my x-rays."

The doctor couldn't hide his surprise. He pulled out an x-ray from the file and handed it to her.

She took it from him and held it up to the light. "The right 6th, 7th, and 10th ribs are all broken? And the left 5th and 6th ribs as well."

"Very good," the doctor commended, unable to hide his amazement. "You're very intelligent for a young lady of your age. You barely look old enough to be out of high school."

"Thank you," Rosemary replied. "Can I see the x-ray of my ankle?"

Dr. Auge handed it to her.

"A trimalleolar fracture?" Rosemary asked. "I presume you surgically fixed it?"

"Yes we did," the doctor said. "Cast must stay on for a least 2 months. You're not allowed to walk on it for at least 6 weeks. No pressure on it at all."

Rosemary nodded her head. "Is there anything else?"

"Yes," Dr. Auge admitted. "When you were found on the side of the road, you were completely naked. We performed a rape kit-"

"And it came back positive," Rosemary finished. She knew it would. She may not have any memories, but that was something you just knew. You couldn't get rid of that feeling. She saw Maggie wipe a tear from her eye.

The doctor nodded sadly. "Local police would like to question you about your attack when you're ready. I know you can't remember, but it's just a formality."

"I understand," Rosemary agreed.

The doctor started to walk out the door, with Maggie close behind.

Rosemary needed just one more question answered. "Can I ask you a question?"

Maggie and Dr. Auge stopped walking.

"Sure thing, hun," Maggie replied.

"Where am I?"

The doctor smiled sadly. "King's Daughters Medical Center."

"And where is that, exactly?" Rosemary questioned. She had detected a southern accent in both her nurse and doctor, and she was quite certain that she didn't belong wherever she was.

"Ashland," Maggie answered. Upon seeing Rosemary's questioning stare, she elaborated. "It's in eastern Kentucky, honey."

**AN: Well, there it is. The first four chapters are written. Let me know if y'all would like this story to continue...**


	2. 2 Years Later

**AN: Wow, I'm amazed at the response to that first chapter. Thank you everyone who reviewed and/or read this story. So, as you requested, here is the next chapter. Enjoy!**

CHAPTER 2:

~2 years later~

People say that sometimes life has a way of putting us on our backs and forcing us to look up. Well, it also has a way of turning us around, flipping us upside down, and forcing us to look _back_. Sometimes small, insignificant things can trigger an avalanche of memories and emotions, even if they had been buried deep within the subconscious mind. That's the funny thing about life; it tends to give you things, take it away, then smack you upside the head with it.

It's been two years since she woke up in the hospital. Two years she spent building a new life for herself, one based on the fact that she had no memories. She knew nothing about herself, other than the fact that she had been brutally attacked and left on the side of the road.

The day she woke up at the hospital, she spoke to the local police officers. Apparently there had been a missing persons report from over in DC (a 7 hour drive from Ashland, Kentucky). The missing woman, a college student, matched her description. Before leaving the hospital, the police assured her that they were going to talk to the DC metro police. The following day, the two police officers came back to visit her. They had informed her that the missing persons report was canceled, as the girl was declared dead. The police were kind to her, and assured her that they'd continue looking.

Now, here she was two years later, no closer to finding out who she was in her previous life. She was never able to regain many of her memories, only quick flashes that revealed her favorite foods (Lucky Charms) and activities (singing).

"Rosemary, honey," Maggie said as she walked toward the reception counter. "Dr. Powell would like you to work up in Maternity today."

"Yes!" Rosemary exclaimed. "I love spending time with all those cute little babies." Dr. Powell was the chief-of-staff at the hospital. Rosemary was given a job there as a candy striper in order to pay off her hospital bills, as she had no money or insurance. Dr. Auge had gotten her the job.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Maggie smiled at the beaming strawberry blonde haired beauty standing in front of her. "Just don't be getting any ideas while you're up there working with that cute new doctor and surrounded by all those precious children."

Rosemary threw a wry grin over to Maggie. "What cute new doctor?" She leaned onto the edge of the counter and looked down at her friend.

Maggie raised her eyebrow in a pointed expression, knowing that Rosemary knew the person she was talking about. "You know, that golden haired pediatrician, just graduated from Louisville."

"Oh, you mean Riley?" Rosemary stated. She turned her head to try to hide the blush that colored her face.

Maggie nodded. "Honey, you can flirt with that boy all you like. Hell, you're an adult, you might as well jump his bones. But remember...as long as you're living in my house, I don't want no crying babies screaming in the next room."

Rosemary's eyes bugged out. "Oh my god, I can't believe ya just said that!"

"Baby girl, you know you were thinkin' it," Maggie smiled. "Now get on upstairs before you're late for your shift. You want potatoes and cornbread tonight for dinner?"

"Sounds great, Maggie," Rosemary said. "I'll see ya when I get home." Rosemary smiled at Maggie, then made her way over to the elevators. She pressed the button and waited for the elevator to arrive.

Maggie had been incredibly amazing to Rosemary over the past two years. When she was allowed to be released from the hospital, with nowhere to go, Maggie offered up her place. She said she had a spare bedroom and would be honored if Rosemary stayed with her.

Rosemary was so lost in thought that she barely registered when the elevator doors opened.

"You going up?" a voice broke through her thoughts.

Rosemary lifted her head up and saw Riley holding the elevator doors open. She looked into his deep emerald eyes and smiled. "Riley! I'm sorry, I was just lost in thought. I guess I didn't hear the door open."

Riley shrugged. "No worries. Happens to all of us." Riley reached his hand towards the numbered buttons on the wall. "What floor."

"Um...I'm up in the Maternity ward today," Rosemary smiled.

"What are the odds?" Riley joked. "So, Miss Rosemary. We've known each other for a few weeks now, and I still don't even know your last name."

Rosemary's smile faded. "Um..LeFay. Rosemary LeFay."

Riley nodded, then looked over to Rosemary. "Dr. Powell told me what happened. Not the details, obviously." He ran his hand through his golden, spiked hair. "I'm sorry it happened."

Rosemary smiled weakly. "Thanks. But I don't really want to talk about that."

"Understandable," Riley smiled.

The elevator pinged as they reached their floor. The two stepped out and made their way down the hallway.

Riley looked over to Rosemary. "Maggie told me the meaning behind the name Rosemary. But why'd you choose LeFay for a last name?"

Rosemary shrugged. "I'm not sure. It just sort of felt right."

"When I was in college, I took a class on Mythology," Riley stated. "I remember when we were learning about Welsh Mythology, there was a goddess named Modron, or something like that. Apparently, in Medieval literature, you know King Arthur and stuff, there's a woman named Morgan LeFay, who supposedly was derived from that Welsh goddess Modron."

"Morgan LeFay?" Rosemary questioned. For some reason, that name struck her more than any other name she had heard.

"Yeah, apparently she was a powerful sorceress in Arthurian legend," Riley smiled.

"What else?" Rosemary asked.

"I don't really remember much else," Riley admitted. "Perhaps we should look her up when we get off of work tonight."

Rosemary stopped walking. "We?" she questioned.

Riley turned around and smiled as he met her eyes. "Yeah, _we_. Maybe we could get dinner first?"

Rosemary blushed. "I'm not so sure. I told Maggie that I would get dinner with her tonight." Truth was, she wasn't sure she was ready to begin a relationship with anyone yet. And a date would be just that, beginning a relationship.

"C'mon, Rose," Riley smirked. "I'm sure you have dinner with her a lot. She wouldn't mind if you cancel once, would she?"

"Not tonight, Riley," Rosemary said. She turned away from Riley and made her way towards the nursery. She paused outside the nursery door and turned around to find him still staring after her. "But if you're not too busy later today, I wouldn't be opposed to spending my lunch break with you." She ducked into the nursery before he had a chance to answer.

She wasn't quite sure why, but the name Morgan LeFay ran through her head like a mantraall day. It was all she could think about. For some unknown reason, she was drawn to that name. She briefly wondered if maybe she was getting some of her memories back, but quickly dismissed that thought. It'd been two years, she was confident that she wasn't ever going to regain her memory.

Her lunch with Riley was relatively pleasant. He was a genuinely nice guy, who loved his job. He had told her that he had always wanted to become a pediatrician. He loved kids, and always found their innocence to be reassuring, especially considering the world they lived in.

Rosemary found that she was becoming more and more attracted to this man. She knew from the first time she met him that he was physically appealing, but his personality was the icing on the cake. She wasn't sure if she'd ever be ready to have a romantic relationship, but she knew she wanted Riley to stay in her life as a friend, at the very least.

oOo

"Evenin', Rosie," Maggie yelled as Rosemary walked into the house. "The food is cookin' and should be done in a few."

Rosemary smiled. "Thanks, Mag." Rosemary followed her nose into the kitchen and looked at her friend. "You need any help in here?"

"Nah, I'm fine, missy," Maggie grinned. "You just go on up and get changed. Then you can tell me all about how your lunch with the new doctor-boy went."

"How'd you know I had lunch with Riley?" Rosemary questioned.

"Honey, you work in a hospital," Maggie laughed. "Word travels fast. Things don't stay secret for long."

Rosemary rolled her eyes. "I should've known."

Maggie's laughter bounced off the walls. "Now get on up and take a shower so that we can eat already."

Rosemary quickly reached over onto the countertop and grabbed a piece of cornbread. She heard Maggie scold her, and she dodged as Maggie playfully swatted at her with a dish towel.

Rosemary ran up the stairs, finishing off the piece of cornbread on the way. She walked into her room and grabbed a pair of lounge pants and a sweatshirt to change in to, then she made her way into the bathroom.

She peeled off her work scrubs and looked at her reflection in the mirror. The once stitched up red, swollen cuts were now merely faded scars on her skin. She placed her hand on her stomach, feeling the healed skin. For months, she desperately tried to remember what had happened to her. Now, she realized how stupid that was. Clearly, nobody was looking for her. Whatever happened in her past...well, it'd be best to just leave it in the past. What did it matter if she remembered anything anyways? She had built herself a new life; one in which she was happy and felt safe, secure, and loved.

She walked over to the shower and turned on the water. She stepped in before allowing the water to warm, reveling in the feel of the pressurized water pounding into her tense muscles. She felt tears begin to form in her eyes and roll down her face. She tried to focus on her breathing, but that only made it much more difficult to stay in control. She let out a gut-wrenching sob as she let her head fall into her arms, and she rested her forearms against the tiled wall of the shower. She may be happy in her new life, but that didn't mean that she was any less frustrated by the fact that her mind was keeping secrets from her.

She tried to calm herself down, but she felt herself being pulled in a different direction. It wasn't a memory, per say, but rather an overwhelming feeling of the familiar. She sensed that someone, somewhere, was just as frustrated as she was. That there was someone, somewhere, who was searching for her and doing everything in their power to bring her home.


	3. She's Alive, Booth

**AN: Happy Oscars Day everyone! To celebrate, I give you an update, which I should've posted on Thursday b/c I'm sad Bones won't be on for a few weeks...**

CHAPTER 3:

"Care to explain this?" Booth asked as he threw a file down onto Brennan's desk.

Brennan looked down at the file, but refused to pick it up to take a look at it's contents. She raised her eyebrow at Booth asking a silent question.

Booth rolled his eyes and opened the file. He pointed to it before he began to speak. "Nearly 30 visits to FCI Petersburg over the past two years. What the _hell_ are you doing there, Bones?"

Brennan looked down into her lap, avoiding Booth's questioning gaze.

He knew the reason she was there. He didn't want to believe it, but he knew. And the paperwork sitting on the desk confirmed it. "Tristian! Are you seriously going there at least once a month to visit Tristian Howards? What the hell is wrong with you, Bones?" Booth raised his voice. "Why the_ hell _would you need to go visit that piece of shit?"

Brennan snapped her head up. "Booth, quiet down! And watch your language." She looked over to the pack 'n' play set up in the corner of her office to ensure that their 7-month old daughter was still asleep. "I know you're upset, but I'll explain it to you later. When you've calmed down and Lily isn't nearby."

Brennan stood up and walked over to where their sleeping daughter lay. Booth watched as Brennan adjusted the baby blanket so that it was covering their baby girl. Lilah Ann Booth was the spitting image of her mother; her beautiful baby fine auburn hair was starting to grow out and she had the ocean blue eyes to complement it.

Booth sighed and then walked up behind Brennan. He wrapped his arms around her and whispered into her ear. "Look, I'm sorry I yelled. But I need to know why my wife-"

"I know, Booth," Brennan interrupted. She turned around in his arms and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. "And I'll tell you, but now is not the time." Brennan pulled herself out of Booth's arms and made her way back to the desk. She looked down at the file that was still sitting open in front of her.

"When? When are you going to tell me?"

Brennan was quiet for a moment. She didn't turn to look at him before answering. "She's alive, Booth._ Alive_. He told me so himself."

"What?" Booth asked, stepping closer. "Who's alive?"

"The evidence just didn't add up," Brennan explained. "So I went to speak with him. He confirmed my suspicions. She's alive."

"Morgan?" Booth questioned. "He told you that Morgan is still alive?"

Brennan nodded her head.

"Bones, he's just taunting you," Booth explained. "The evidence said-"

"The evidence didn't add up," Brennan interrupted. "It was never 100%."

"It was more than enough to suggest the fact that it was her," Booth argued. "It's been two years. If she-"

Brennan shook her head. "I can't believe you were so willing to accept her death, Booth!"

"What you're doing, it's not healthy, Bones," Booth replied.

"Somebody has to look for her," Brennan argued. "She's alive." Brennan felt tears begin to sting her eyes.

"Bones-" He stepped toward her and attempted to pull her into an embrace.

"No, Booth," she said as she pushed him away. "You said 100%. You told me that. That we wouldn't stop looking until we were 100% certain that she was dead. Well, I never reached 100% certainty."

Booth stepped even closer. "Bones-"

Brennan shook her head. "No, Booth. I need time. _And_ space." Brennan took a deep breath before continuing. "I have an appointment tonight that I should get ready for. Could you do me a favor and take Lily home?"

Booth nodded his head. "Sure, Bones." He walked over to the pack 'n' play to gather Lily's things. Once he had Lily's diaper bag, he picked up his sleeping baby girl. She stirred slightly in his arms, but remained asleep. He turned back to Brennan. "It's amazing how much she looks like you."

Brennan smiled. If there was anything that could get her to bring down her defenses and diffuse her anger, it was her daughter. She walked up to Booth and placed a kiss on her daughter's forehead. "It's called genetics, Booth."

"Yeah, she's got your looks and your intelligence," Booth stated. "There's really nothing of mine in there. I'd say genetics are a little one-sided."

"That's not true," Brennan protested. "She has your stubborn personality."

"_My_ stubborn personality?" Booth questioned. "No, that's all _you_."

"What! You are far more stubborn than me."

"Not likely," Booth countered. "You're more stubborn than a mule."

"That doesn't make any sense, Booth," Brennan argued. "Mules aren't stubborn. They're highly intelligent animals. In fact, they are often more intelligent than their handlers, which is why they are sometimes perceived as being stubborn."

Booth rolled his eyes. "It's an expression, Bones."

Lilah stirred in Booth's arms again and opened her brilliant blue eyes. "Dada!" The baby grinned up at her father.

"Hey, baby girl," Booth said. He looked up to Brennan. "We should probably get going. You know, before she wants down and starts crawling all over the place." Booth laughed. "She'll be walking in no time."

"It's still a little early for that," Brennan stated. "Although she does seem to be developing at a slightly accelerated rate, we probably have another month before she takes her first steps independently."

Booth grinned and looked down at Lilah. "See, you'll be walking around in no time." He laughed as he listened to her babbling in reply.

"I shouldn't be home too late tonight," Brennan said. She leaned over and kissed Booth.

He smiled and then began to make his way out of her office. Before reaching the door, he turned around. "Hey, Bones. That appointment you have? Is it to see-"

"Yes," Brennan interrupted. "And don't worry. It's only about a 2 hour drive, and I'll be surrounded by prison guards. Nothing is going to happen."

She walked over and kissed Booth once again. "I'll pick up takeout on my way home tonight."

"Sounds good," Booth nodded.

Brennan leaned down and kissed her daughter again. "Te amo, mi hija." She smiled when she heard Lilah giggle.

"Ah jeez, Bones," Booth said. "Do you really have to speak to her in other languages?"

"Yes. She's in the stage where she's beginning to develop her verbal skills. It only makes sense to introduce her to other languages as well. It'll be easier for her to learn them."

"And how many languages are you expecting our daughter to be fluent in as a baby?" Booth joked.

"Just three," Brennan said, as if it were no big deal. "English, Spanish, and Chinese, well Mandarin Chinese."

Booth rolled his eyes. "Yes, of course. What toddler isn't fluent in Chinese?"

"Over a billion people speak Chinese, Booth. Besides, I'm fluent six languages," Brennan stated. "Plus I can converse in several other languages as well. I might as well impart my wisdom on my progeny. How many languages do you speak?"

"One. English."

Brennan smiled. "Well it's a good thing I'm here then, isn't it? Now you should really get going so I can get ready."

oOo

Once again, Brennan found herself walking down the familiar hallways of the Federal Penitentiary in Petersburg, Virginia. Every month since Morgan had been declared dead, Brennan made a trip to the prison to question Tristian. She knew Morgan was still alive, and on her second visit, Tristian confirmed that fact. Ever since then, she went about trying to get him to tell her what he had done to Morgan.

She followed one of the prison guards into the visitor's room. She sat down on the uncomfortable plastic chair and waited for Tristian to be taken from his cell and brought into the room. She didn't have to wait long until the door opened and Tristian walked into the room with a sly grin on his face.

"Ah, Dr. Brennan," Tristian greeted as he walked over to the table. He sat down across from her and looked into her eyes. "Is it that time of the month already?"

Brennan shifted in her seat. "Where is she, Tristian?"

"Nah-uh," Tristian said. "I told you our deal nearly two years ago now. I'll lead you to Morgan, if you give me something."

Brennan looked disgusted and shook her head.

"Your call," Tristian shrugged his shoulders. He studied Brennan's face for a moment before speaking up again. "How's the baby? You never did tell me, boy or a girl?"

Again, Brennan shook her head. "Where is Morgan?"

"It's a girl, isn't it?" Tristian guessed. "A beautiful little girl, probably looks just like her mother. What is she, about 7 months now? What did ya name her?"

Brennan ignored Tristian's statement. "Please, just tell me where she is."

"And how do you think I know that information?" Tristian wondered. "It's been two years, after all. She could be anywhere."

"If you tell me where you left her, I could see if anyone knows where she is."

"I'll tell ya what," Tristian began. "I should be getting out of here any day now. How 'bout the two of us go look for her together? I'm sure she misses me. I sure as hell miss her."

"You're never getting out of here, Tristian," Brennan said evenly. "A jury convicted you of murder. You'll be executed soon."

"No, my appeals seem to be going very well," Tristian argued. "My new lawyer is under the impression that all of the so called 'evidence' will be thrown out this time around. She thinks I'll be out in about two months."

"The judge didn't discard the evidence the first time around," Brennan pointed out. "What makes you think this time is any different?"

Tristian leaned forward and locked his eyes with Brennan's.

Brennan shifted, but did not look away. She wasn't intimidated by this monster. She crossed her arms over her chest, quirked an eyebrow, and waited for Tristian to answer her question.

"Mmmm...I can't wait til I'm a free man again," Tristian stated. "It's been two years since I've gotten any action. You sure you didn't want to look for Morgan with me? Between the two of you, I'm sure I could be satisfied for a very long time. It'd be a great welcome home present."

Brennan shook her head. "I'm going to find her, and I'm going to make sure you are never set free." She stood up and began making her way to the door.

Tristian got up and ran after her. He grabbed her from behind and pulled her flush against his body, pressing his arousal into her. He put his mouth next to her ear, and then whispered, "Mmm, this feels so nice Dr. Brennan."

He didn't have time to say anything else before Brennan had successfully flipped him onto his back. "Don't touch me."

The stunned guards rushed into the room a few seconds later, staring down at the man who was rolling around in pain on the floor. One of the guards looked over to Brennan. "I'm so sorry, Dr. Brennan."

"Don't worry about it," Brennan said. "But, could you not mention this in the visitor's report? The last thing I need is for Agent Booth to become upset because something happened to me while I was here. He'd probably drive down here and ensure that all of the guards on duty lose their jobs." She didn't like using Booth as a way to manipulate people, but it needed to be done. There was no reason Booth needed to know about this little incident.

oOo

"Booth?" Brennan called as she entered into her apartment. She smiled when she heard her daughter's laughter bouncing off the walls down the hallway. She kicked the door shut and walked into the kitchen to place the take-out containers onto the counter. She shucked off her coat and laid it over the back of a chair, then walked towards the source of the baby's laughter.

She paused in the doorway of her daughter's bedroom and watched Booth laying on the floor as he played with Lilah. When Lilah saw her mother, she crawled over to her and clung onto her leg. Brennan laughed and picked up the little girl. "What are you and Daddy doing in here?"

Booth laughed and pushed himself off his stomach so he was standing upright. "We were just playing, weren't we Lily-bug?" He walked up to Brennan and placed a kiss onto her temple. "How'd it go?"

Brennan shook her head. "We'll talk about it later." She smiled when she heard Lily babbling. "Are you hungry, baby girl?" Brennan shifted Lily's weight on her hip, then turned to walk down the hallway towards the kitchen.

"What did you pick up for dinner, Bones?" Booth asked as he walked into the kitchen after her.

"The usual from the diner," Brennan answered. "Can you get Lily's food ready?"

Booth walked over to the fridge and pulled out some milk. He walked over to the cabinet housing the baby food. "What do you want to eat tonight, Lily? Let's see, we've got sweet potatoes or green bean casserole." Booth rolled his eyes. "Yum."

"Give her the green bean casserole," Brennan said as she took the take-out from the bag and placed it onto the kitchen table.

Once the food was all set, Brennan began feeding Lily. Lily grunted and hit Brennan's hand as she made a reach for the spoon.

"No, baby," Brennan said. "You can't feed yourself. Mommy has to do it."

Booth laughed as he watched Brennan struggle with their daughter. "So independent, just like her mother."

After everybody was fed, Brennan took Lily into her bedroom and lulled her to sleep in the rocking chair. When she was certain that her daughter was asleep, she placed her into her bed and walked out of the room, closing the door slightly behind her. When she got into the living room. she spotted Booth sitting on the couch watching a sports game. Brennan walked up to the couch and sat down next to him.

"She asleep?" Booth asked.

Brennan nodded her head. She leaned over to pick up the remote control from the coffee table, then shut off the television. "Booth, we need to talk."

"Sure, what about?"

Brennan took a moment to compose her thoughts. "We need to go see Caroline tomorrow."

Booth shifted in his seat. "Why? Did something happen with Tristian?"

"Um..." Brennan didn't want to lie to Booth. "Kind of. Apparently, his lawyer strongly believes that they will win their appeals. He thinks he'll be free within the next two months."

Booth nodded as he processed that information. "Caroline won't let that happen. We'll go talk to her in the morning." He wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

"Thanks, Booth," Brennan smiled as she cuddled into his side.

They sat in silence for a few moments. "Bones?"

"Hmmm?" Brennan mumbled.

"How come you didn't tell me?" Booth asked.

"I was afraid," Brennan answered truthfully.

"Of what?"

Brennan pulled back and looked into Booth's eyes. "Of what you'd think of me. That, even though I don't believe in psychology, you'd think I've gone crazy, become obsessed. That you wouldn't agree with me, wouldn't support my decision to continue looking."

"So you spent the past two years secretly searching by yourself?"

Brennan nodded.

"I would've helped you," Booth said. "I _will_ help you."

"I know that now," Brennan admitted. She reached over and pulled Booth down for a kiss. After a few seconds she pulled back. "I know you'll always be there to help me when I need it."


	4. Insights From A Prosecutor

**AN: Sorry for the wait, I've been having computer problems. So, if I didn't reply to your review, that's why. Also, I'm going to try to update twice a week from here on out, provided I get my computer fixed...**

CHAPTER 4:

The following morning, Booth and Brennan made their way over to Caroline's office. The ride over to the Hoover had been relatively quiet, with the exception of Lilah's baby ramblings. Booth was silent as he concentrated on the road, every once sneaking glances over at Brennan, who was staring out the window lost in thought. Brennan was nervous; she wasn't sure what was going to come up during this meeting with Caroline, but nothing good happened whenever the topic of Tristian came up.

When they got into the elevator at the Hoover, Brennan leaned over and pulled Lilah out of Booth's arms and settled the little girl on her hip. Brennan smiled at her daughter and looked nervously over to Booth. Booth squeezed her shoulder, then kissed her temple in a sign of reassurance.

As the door opened, Booth grabbed Brennan's hand and led her down the hallway and over to Caroline's office.

"Morning, cherie," Caroline Julian said. "Didn't expect to see your faces here this early in the morning." Caroline's gaze flicked over to the baby in Brennan's arms. "I see you've brought the calvary. Whatever you're here to discuss must really be something."

Booth closed Caroline's office door before getting straight to the reason for their visit. "Bones, here, tells me that Tristian Howard's lawyers are positive they're going to win their appeals."

Caroline sighed. "I was wondering when you'd bring this up." She nodded to the two chairs in front of her desk. "Take a seat."

"Why didn't you tells us?" Brennan asked as she hugged her daughter tighter.

"Because, we're still trying to figure everything out," Caroline explained. "The whole case is a sloppy mess. It wasn't handled properly. The lead investigator and forensic team has a personal connection to a victim. Then there was the change of personnel working the case. Plus, the defense believes that all evidence found in Tristian Howard's house was obtained illegally."

"We had a warrant," Booth interrupted.

"An arrest warrant, cherie," Caroline explained. "That doesn't give you permission to enter his home unless there is cause to believe he was inside. Which there wasn't. His car was gone, and the surveillance team saw no signs of activity from within the house prior to your arrival."

"What about the evidence from his car?" Brennan asked. "We legally obtained all of that. Morgan's blood was found inside."

"Yes," Caroline agreed. "We do have that going for us. Morgan Johnson was declared dead..._however_, the lead forensic anthropologist is determined to prove otherwise." Caroline looked at Brennan knowingly. "Twenty-eight visits to FCI Petersburg to meet with Mr. Howards; the most recent being last night. Those visits are monitored, Dr. Brennan. _You_ don't believe Morgan is dead, then the blood found in his car becomes meaningless. And with no connection to the other three victims, besides that found in the house, which is probably going to be thrown out anyways-"

"He walks," Booth finished. Booth stood up from his chair and paced around the small office. He paused and stared at the closed door for a moment before releasing his frustration by punching the solid oak door. "Dammit!"

Lilah flinched at the loud noises and began to cry.

"Booth!" Brennan scolded as she cuddled her daughter tightly to her chest. "You need to calm down. You're scaring Lily."

"I'm going to kill Perotta," Booth muttered.

"Perotta?" Caroline questioned. "Why Agent Perotta?"

"She could've handled the whole thing a whole lot better," Booth exclaimed. Lilah cried harder as Booth's voice grew louder. "We wouldn't be in this mess if she'd-"

"But we _are_ in this mess, Agent Booth," Caroline interrupted. She looked over at the crying baby seeking comfort in her mother's arms before looking back at Booth. "Agent Booth, I'd suggest you head on over to your office and cool down for a little bit. I'll finish things here with Dr. Brennan."

"You're kicking me out of here?" Booth asked, his voice returning to a slightly more normal volume.

"Yes," Caroline stated. "I need to discuss a few things with Dr. Brennan, and you need to calm down. Go call up the squints and tell them what's happening with the appeals. See if they can use their genius brains to think of a way to get us more evidence."

Booth took a deep breath and then looked over to Brennan. She was rocking sideways, trying to calm down Lilah. "I'm sorry, Bones."

She flicked her eyes over her shoulder at Booth. "It doesn't matter now, Booth. What's done is done."

He shook his head and then walked over towards her. He kneeled down on the floor next to Brennan's chair and rubbed his hand on his daughter's back. "I'm sorry, baby girl. Daddy didn't mean to scare you." He leaned over and placed a kiss to Lilah's head before standing up and doing the same to Brennan. "Meet me in my office when you're done here." He walked out the door, leaving the women alone.

"Cherie, do you really, truly believe that Morgan Johnson is still alive somewhere?" Caroline asked a few seconds after watching Booth walk out of her office.

Brennan nodded her head. "Yes, I do. Tristian told me so himself. And if he gets out of prison...I have to find her before that happens. I can't let anything happen to her again."

"I understand, cherie," Caroline said. "Now, care to explain what happened last night?"

"Nothing happened last night," Brennan stated.

"Oh really?" Caroline asked. "So, Tristian Howards didn't assault you last night? He hasn't been threatening you? Forming some kind of sick fascination with that beautiful baby girl of yours?"

"I appreciate your concern Ms. Julian, but I'm fine," Brennan stated with more confidence then she felt. "Tristian is just trying to play games with me. I simply don't play along. He can't harm me, he's in prison."

"And if he wins his appeals, what happens then?"

"I can take care of myself, and I can most certainly take care of my daughter."

Caroline shook her head. "I'm sure you can. You've proven that on more than one occasion. But he's sick, sadistic. He's formed an obsession with you, with your daughter, he won't give up until he finds a way to take his fasciation and make it a reality."

"What are you, a psychologist?" Brennan scoffed. "I wasn't informed you switched professions."

Caroline smiled. "No, cherie. I'm just concerned."

"Well, don't be. And please don't mention this to Booth. It's nothing to be worried about." Brennan looked down at her daughter, who had calmed down and was now playing with Brennan's necklace. "If you think even for a second that I'd put my daughter in danger, you are gravely mistaken."

Caroline's smile grew wider upon witnessing the protective instincts of her favorite genius scientist.

"Can I ask you a question?" Brennan said.

"Seems like you just did, cherie."

Brennan kept her eyes locked on her daughter. "Do you really think Tristian's going to win his appeals?"

Caroline sighed deeply. "I don't want to, cherie. But yeah, I do. In a just world-"

Brennan snapped her head up. "But it's not a just world. Innocent people die, and guilty people walk around as free men and women every day."

"Ain't that the sad truth," Caroline agreed. "Now, you and I both know that Tristian is guilty. So, we need to do a few things to make sure he stays in prison."

Brennan nodded her head. "Find Morgan, and get her to testify against him."

"Yes, cherie," Caroline said. "But we gotta think. It's been two years...why hasn't she come here to find us? Or at least found some way to contact us?"

"I don't know," Brennan admitted. "But she's in danger until we can bring her back here."


	5. Nightmares, Part 1

**AN: I meant to post this yesterday, but I wanted to make it longer some way. That didn't happen, but I couldn't resist posting after watching the promo for next week's episode...**

CHAPTER 5:

_It was silent, eerily silent. Aside from hearing the blood pulsing through her veins, the only noticeable sound was the slight hum of something electronic, the origins of which were unknown. She was cold and numb. She was shivering uncontrollably as she tried to get some sort of bearing as to her location._

_She brought her hand to her head, trying to relieve the pressure and the pain. She felt the trail of dried blood on her face._

_She heard the floorboard creak just outside of her confines. She started hitting the walls with more strength than she felt possible in her condition. "Help me!" Her cries echoed off the walls of the small container._

_She heard the sounds of a lock clicking. A moment later, the door to the container opened. She closed her eyes as the bright fluorescent lights and warm, fresh air assaulted her senses. She blinked a few times before looking up in terror at the man towering over her. "No," she sobbed, shaking her head from side to side. "No, no, no, no, NO!"_

_Her vision blurred, and the next thing she knew she was laying down on the soft surface of the couch. The man was seated next to her. She tried to move, but found her body restricted._

_Her eyes widened in panic as the man placed his hand on her face. She flinched away at the contact of his rough skin against her delicate cheek. He ran his fingers across her cheekbone, down her jaw, and over her lips. He repeated the motion, caressing the delicate skin on her face._

_He stopped caressing her face and moved his attention to other parts of her body. His hand wandered down her neck, over the swell of her breasts, across her abdomen, and down over her hip and thigh. He hooked his hand around her inner thigh, then moved back up again. He repeated this motion several times._

_She cringed when she felt his dirty hands touching her body in intimate ways. She screamed "no," telling him to stop, but he only increased the pressure and fervor with which he explored. She tried hard to focus on other things, such as the television, which was playing some sort of news conference on the screen._

_Out of the corner of her eye she saw the man grab the scissors from its spot on the table._

_"Relax," he soothed her as he brought the scissors down toward her body. She felt the cold metal as it made contact with her stomach. "This isn't meant to hurt you. I'm merely going to make things a little bit easier." He trailed the scissors through the thin fabric of her shirt, cutting it up the middle. She squirmed, attempting to stop him, but the scissors cut into her flesh. Once again, she cried out in pain. He continued, relishing in the pleasure he got from her screams and pleas to stop. When the shirt was cut to shreds, he tossed it aside and started working on her pants._

_"Wow, you're beautiful," he stated once he finished cutting her clothes off of her, leaving her in just her bra and underwear. He leaned down and painfully pressed his lips to hers._

_She bit him in the lip, hard enough to draw blood. Once she knew he had registered the pain, she kneed him in the groin._

_"Bitch!" He choked out through the pain. She rolled off the couch and began to crawl away from him, searching for any way to escape. It was a difficult task, given that her hands and legs were still restrained. She didn't get far before she felt his hands in her hair, dragging her across the room. He didn't bring her back to the couch. Instead, he dragged her into the bathroom. He unceremoniously dumped her into the bathtub, and turned the hot water on as far as it would go._

_The heat of the water shocked her still cold body. She whimpered as the scalding hot water burned her skin. She tried to climb out, but he pushed her back in. The tub was quickly filling with dangerously hot water. She struggled to get out, the pain was unbearable. He roughly grabbed at her hair and forced her entire body underwater. He pulled her up a few seconds later, though to her it felt like a lifetime. She was choking on water and trying to catch her breath. Before she could recover, he submerged her body once again._

_When he allowed her up for air, she began pleading with him. "Let me out, please. Please let me out!" Her painful screams bounced off the walls. He forced her underwater once again. She felt the burning hot water enter her lungs. He pulled her up and allowed her to cough up the water she had inhaled. "I promise I won't run again. I won't try hurt ya anymore. I learned my lesson, I swear!" Tears were flowing freely from her eyes and mixing with the water that had turned red from the blood pouring out from the gaping wounds on her head and stomach._

_He laughed at her cries and continued to force her head underwater. She was sobbing, in pain, and praying that it would all stop. She felt her body going numb, as she slipped into shock. Her vision was blurring and beginning to fade. She welcomed the darkness._

_The world shifted, and the next thing she knew she was moving through the air. She flicked her eyes open, but remained quiet in a halfway unconscious state as the man carried her into the garage. He juggled her in his arms and opened up the back door of his car._

_"Where are we going?" she mumbled._

_"We're just going to go for a little drive," the man said. "Don't worry about it."_

_She nodded her head and then whispered, "I love you, Vincent."_

Rosemary bolted upright as she awoke from her nightmare. Her breathing was erratic and beads of sweat dripped down her skin, causing her clothes to stick to her body. Tears were streaming down her face and she couldn't contain the sob that wracked through her body. She rolled out of her bed and ran into the bathroom. She barely made it before emptying the contents of her stomach. She let her head rest on the toilet seat as she cried her heart out.

She heard the door to the bathroom creak open, but she didn't look up to acknowledge the person's presence.

"Rosie, honey?" Maggie whispered. She took in her friend's appearance and then knelt down beside her, wrapping her arms around her shoulders. "Oh, sweetheart, what happened?"

It took her a few minutes, but Rosemary finally calmed down enough to speak. "I'm fine, Maggie. Really."

"Darlin', you may be a lot of things right now, but fine certainly ain't one of them," Maggie stated. "Now, talk to me, hun."

Rosemary shook her head. "It was a bad dream, that's all. It never happened." She didn't want to talk about it. She just wanted to forget it. Sure, it was only a nightmare. At the very least, she could try to convince herself of that. But she knew that wasn't true. It was something more than a nightmare; it was a memory.

"It must've been some bad dream," Maggie observed, not quite believing Rosemary's explanation.

Rosemary nodded her head. "It was." She stood up and walked over to the sink. "I'm just gonna wash my face, then get back to bed. You should get back to sleep too, Mag. I'm sorry I woke you."

"Rosie honey, it's fine," Maggie said. "I'm always here if ya need me. Ya know, I'm a good listener."

Rosemary nodded her head. "I know."

She watched as Maggie turned away and walked out of the room, leaving her alone. She turned on the water, cupped some in her hand, and splashed it onto her face. She then grabbed her toothbrush and scrubbed her teeth. When she was done, she looked at her tired reflection in the mirror.

Her eyes were red and puffy, put her complexion was sheet white. She leaned against the counter top and took a few slow, even breaths. When she stood upright, she peeled the shirt off her body and tossed it onto the counter. She brought her hand down to trace the patterned scars on her abdomen, which perfectly matched the injuries from her nightmare.

"At least you're finally starting to remember things," she muttered to herself. She laughed darkly and then grabbed her shirt, pulling it through her arms and back over her head.

She walked back into her bedroom and let the memory replay itself over in her mind. She always knew she was attacked, that she was a victim. But it never felt this real before. She may not know many things about her past, but she now she knew one thing. If she ever came across her old life, she needed to stay away from someone named Vincent. Clearly he was the man who had attacked her, and that monster had warped her mind enough to maker her believe that she loved him.


	6. Nightmares, Part 2

**AN: Sorry I didn't post this earlier. I got extremely busy with midterms and volunteering with the Humane Society this past weekend. I'm going to try to post more often, but I'm beginning to look for jobs too, so we'll see how this goes.**

CHAPTER 6:

Rosemary made it through the rest of the night without any more memories plaguing her dreams. She awoke just before dawn, and figuring she wouldn't get any more sleep, she pulled on her favorite pair of yoga pants, workout bra, and running shoes. Before running out the door, she grabbed her track jacket out of the hall closet and got an apple out of the fruit bowl to eat.

The sun was just beginning to rise as she made her way out the front door and onto the deserted street. She followed her usual morning running path, making her way down the hill and maneuvering through the streets of Ashland until she made her way to Central Park, which was located in the center of the town.

Instead of turning around and heading back home like she normally would, she ventured inside the park and ran nearly 20 laps around the edge of the baseball diamond before deciding to head back home. She didn't mean to be gone so long, but the strain she felt by pushing herself to the limits gave her the distraction she was desperately seeking.

By the time she got home, Maggie had already left for work. Rosemary wasn't due in to work until 3, so she had a few hours to herself before needing to head in to the hospital for her double shift in the emergency room. The run had done an excellent job at distracting her, but now that she was home she found her mind drifting back to the previous night.

_'Why now?'_ she thought to herself. Why would her memories start to come back now, after 2 years had passed? She was getting along with her life just fine, only to have her past come back to haunt her. She knew she could survive without the knowledge about her past. Quite frankly, not only didn't she need that knowledge, she didn't want it. She didn't want to know; she didn't want to remember the pain. After all, ignorance is bliss, isn't it?

Rosemary felt exhausted, despite the fact that she had only been awake for a few hours. Knowing that she still had 6 hours until she needed to be at work, she crawled into her bed and pulled the covers over her head in an attempt to block out the world. Almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, she felt her eyelids fluttering shut as sleep overcame her.

_"Sit down," he ordered as he pushed her onto the couch. She let out a small cry of pain as she tripped over the table and landed awkwardly on the couch. He followed after her and grabbed her wrists. She struggled against him as he tied her arms together behind her back. Once he was done with her arms, he moved down to restrain her legs. When he was finished, she was uncomfortably laying down on the couch and facing the television._

_He walked over to the television and turned it on. He grabbed a tape that was sitting on top of the TV, placed it into the VCR, and pressed play._

_"We're gonna watch your 'friends' talk about how they're gonna catch me before anyone else gets hurt." He laughed evilly before continuing. "But really, what do they know anyways?"_

_He turned up the volume as far as it would go. After a few moments, the television finally warmed up enough to show a picture on the screen. She tried to concentrate on the images playing out before her, but her eyes wouldn't focus. She could hear noises coming from the television, the sounds of a press conference, but she was preoccupied with trying to wriggle free and away from the man who was currently running his hands over her body._

_"Are you listening, dear? This will be the last time you'll get to hear any of your friends speak. You'd better listen carefully to what they have to say."_

_She tried to focus on the images, the voices, coming from the television, but she couldn't make anything out of the noise. She strained her ears, trying to pick up even one word coming out from the television._

_"You hear that? They don't even realize that anybody is missing. Nobody is going to be searching for you. Nobody is going to rescue you. You're all mine, sweetheart," her attacker told her._

_She let out a sob as she realized that all of her fears were coming true. She was alone, nobody knew she was missing, and she was in serious danger of not making it out of this situation alive. But somehow through all the pain in her body and fog in her mind, she was able to hear one word from the press conference. One important word penetrated through all of the trauma and registered in her mind: Jeffersonian._

Rosemary woke up for the second time in less than 24 hours, screaming and soaked in sweat. Once she realized where she was, that she was safe, and that it was only a nightmare, she looked over to her clock: 1:30 p.m. It was time for her to start getting ready for her double shift at the hospital. She rolled off her bed and stumbled into the bathroom. The entire time she spent getting ready, she made sure to keep her thoughts away from analyzing her nightmare, her memory. She knew that she'd never make it through the day if she allowed herself to dwell on the memories that were beginning to surface.

oOo

"Rosie, honey, how're you doing?" Maggie asked when she saw Rosemary arrive at the hospital. She set the file she was holding down onto the counter and stepped over toward Rosemary. "You're looking a little pale, is everything alright?"

"I'm fine Mag, no worries," Rosemary answered, feigning a smile. "You about ready to head on out?"

Maggie nodded. "Soon. I've just gotta finish a few things here. What time will you be home tonight?"

"I won't be," Rosemary answered. "I got a double shift here working in the emergency room, so I won't be home til early tomorrow morning."

"Alright, hun," Maggie said. "Just make sure you grab some dinner tonight. I don't need you wasting away to nothing now, do I?"

Rosemary remained quiet for a moment, before looking away from Maggie and diverting her gaze to a spot on the floor. She contemplated her next question, before deciding to speak. "Maggie, what is the Jeffersonian?"

Maggie looked quizzically at Rosemary for a minute before answering. "I'm not sure. Why do ya ask, honey?"

"No reason. It was mentioned in a dream," Rosemary shrugged. "I was wondering if it had any meaning."

Maggie took a another step forward and placed her hand on Rosemary's shoulder. "Was it a memory?"

"I think so," Rosemary admitted. "It wasn't a very good one, though."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Rosemary shook her head. "No. I...um...I should probably get to work."

oOo

The evening had gone by in a blur. Countless numbers of people had been admitted into the emergency room, most with injuries that could have been easily avoided. A moderately sized stack of paperwork sat on the desk in front of her, so Rosemary knew she needed to begin the monotonous work of entering the paperwork into the computer system and then filing the folders into the correct cabinets. With a heavy sigh, she grabbed a small stack from the pile and began to work.

"Tell me again, how many babies are born every day in the United States?"

Rosemary looked up to see an exhausted looking Riley leaning against her desk. She giggled and then answered. "That would be about 11,000 babies."

"I think I've been there for about half of those today," Riley joked as he rested his head on his arms. "Tell me again why I took this job? I wanted to be a pediatrician, not an obstetrician."

"You're not a obstetrician, Riley," Rosemary laughed. "And isn't neonatology, which is you're current profession, a branch of pediatrics?"

"Yeah, you're right," Riley conceded. "It's just...you know, a guy can only witness so many births in one day..."

Rosemary laughed. "And to think, it's only Wednesday. You've still got a few days until you get a break."

Riley laughed good-heartedly. He winked at Rosemary before leaning in conspiratorially. "So, what's been happening down here in Emergency? Got any juicy stories?"

Rosemary mimicked Riley's position and brought her voice down to a low, husky whisper. "Well, you see that guy?" She pointed to a guy sitting in the corner, holding a bloody towel up to his ear. "His little boy hooked him in the ear while on a fishing trip."

Riley tried, unsuccessfully, to suppress his laughter.

"And that lady, over there?" She waited for Riley to located the woman she was talking about. "She accidentally impaled her husband in the foot with a knife while they were practicing their knife-throwing act for the county fair."

"No way!" Riley's eyes widened. "Seriously?"

Rosemary nodded. "Yep. One of the nurses just brought him back. Dr. Auge is working on him now."

"Any other interesting cases?"

"No, it's been a slow night," Rosemary answered with a shrug of her shoulder.

"Hmmm..." Riley mused. "I see you're working a double shift tonight. That's too bad. I just got off my shift and was going to ask you to get some drinks with me."

"Ah, I wish I could," Rosemary replied. "But it's only 11 PM. I still have another 8 hours left. And quite frankly, I'm not sure waiting til I get done would be a wise idea. Not many people go out for drinks at 8 AM. Apparently, it's kind of frowned upon, though I don't see why."

"True," Riley smiled at her joke. "Did you at least get some dinner?"

Rosemary rolled her eyes and picked up an energy bar from her desk. "Happy?"

"That's all you're going to eat! Now that's just unacceptable."

"I'll be fine," Rosemary said. "I haven't been too hungry today."

"Everything alright?" Riley asked. "It just...that's not like you. From what I've seen, anyway."

"Are ya coming in tomorrow morning for work?" Rosemary asked, ignoring his question.

"Yep, bright and early," Riley said. He stood rigid and brought his hand up in a salute. "I'll be reporting for duty at 7 AM, ma'am."

Rosemary laughed. "At ease, soldier. You're not in the military."

"Feels like it, sometimes."

"I'll tell you what," Rosemary said as she stood up and walked towards Riley. She stopped when she was standing about a foot away. "How about you come into work early and bring me breakfast tomorrow morning?"

Riley smiled and moved a little closer. "It's a date, Rose." He leaned in a placed a quick kiss on her cheek before turning and walking away.

She stood there, stunned. "Wait, I didn't mean..."

He turned back towards her and gave her a two-fingered salute. "See ya in the AM." He turned back around and disappeared down the hall.

Rosemary smiled to herself as she watched his retreating form. She shook her head and walked back to her desk, biting her bottom lip as she thought back to his kiss. It was only on the cheek, yet she found that she wished it would've been more, a real kiss.

**AN: The next chapter is completely written and edited, so I'm going to post it later in the week (most likely Thursday/Friday).**


	7. Surprise in the Night

**AN: Thank you so much for all of your reviews and story alerts! They mean more to me than y'all know. I may not get around to replying to every review for every chapter, but I really am trying. And with no further ado...**

CHAPTER 7:

The rest of the night was rather uneventful for Rosemary. She managed to finish with the stack of paperwork, and was now focusing on making sure she didn't fall asleep at her desk. It was roughly 5 in the morning, and she still had about 2 hours until Riley would be showing up with a much needed food supply.

"Rosemary?"

Rosemary lifted up her head and saw Dr. Auge standing before her. "Hey, you. What can I do for ya this morning?"

"Mr. Carnegie passed away last night during surgery," Dr. Auge explained.

"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry, Don," Rosemary said solemnly.

"Thank you," Dr. Auge replied. "I was wondering if you could bring his body down to the morgue for preservation."

"Um...well, wouldn't a nurse normally do that kind of thing?" Rosemary inquired. "When I work down here, I normally just do the filing and check patients in."

"Yes, nurses are usually those given the responsibility of transporting the deceased, however, as you know we are severely understaffed. I'll get you the authorization and clearance to go down there. All I need is for you to bring the body down there, sign the paperwork, and place the body into the storage unit. Mr. Carpenter, the resident mortician, will take care of the rest when he arrives in a few hours."

"Yeah, I can do that," Rosemary said. She followed Dr. Auge to the room where Mr. Carnegie's remains were being kept. He then gave her his ID badge and told her the security code to enter the morgue, and then left in a hurry to go perform another surgery.

"Well, it looks like it's just you and me, Carnegie," Rosemary stated aloud.

She took a deep breath and then wheeled the narrow hospital transport bed down the hallway and into the elevator. When both she and the bed were in the elevator, Rosemary swiped Dr. Auge's ID card into the card reader and pressed the button for the secured basement level. When the elevator doors opened at her destination, Rosemary hurried out of the elevator and down the hallway toward the morgue.

Like most people, Rosemary found basements to be a little unsettling. Basements are isolated, oftentimes hidden from the reaches of natural light. In one word, basements are dreary. This one, although located in a prestigious hospital, was no different. The overhead fluorescent lights that illuminated the narrow hallway were flickering, and the basement was completely deserted. It was clean and sterile like the rest of the hospital, yet it felt grimy and unsanitary.

The light was burned out at the end of the hall, just before the entrance into the morgue. The lack of light made it difficult to maneuver the transport bed around the corner. As she was attempting to turn the bed, her arm smacked into a protuberance from the wall.

"Dammit," Rosemary cursed as she gingerly held her elbow. "Who the hell came up with the idea to attach pipes to the _outside_ of a wall? Shouldn't it be hidden, or something?"

She finished lining the transport bed up in front of the door, and squeezed her way past so that she was standing in front of the solid metal door.

"God, I hate basements."

She quickly entered the access code which allowed her to open the door, and then wheeled the transport bed into the room, pausing when she realized that something was off. The normally slow-to-turn-on automatic sensor lights were already illuminated, and there was a faint smell of something burning. She left the transport bed in the doorway and entered the room with caution.

"Hello?" she said aloud.

No answer.

She walked a few more steps into the room. "Hello? Is anybody there?"

Again, there was no answer.

As she rounded the corner of the room, and her voice caught in her throat as she tried to scream at the sight in front of her. Her breathing became erratic as she processed the scene. Spread out on the floor were human remains, burnt to a crisp.

She saw movement out of the corner of her eye, and she froze in panic. "Who...who's there?"

No answer.

Rosemary tried again. "Hello?" She reached into her back pocket and pulled out her cell phone. She flipped it open and looked down at the screen. "Of course, there's no effing service, Rose, you're in a freakin basement!" She tossed her phone onto the floor, and it slid under the shelving unit in the corner of the room. "Shit!"

She slowly walked around the remains and to the phone sitting on the desk near the wall. With a shaky hand, she picked up the phone and dialed the number for hospital security. She waited as the phone rang a few times.

"Hello? I need someone to come down to the morgue...Yes now. And I also need you to find a way to get Dr. Powell here immediately...I know he's not scheduled to be here for a few days, but it's an emergency...I don't care, just get him here...and hurry."

oOo

"I've told ya all this before!" Rosemary sighed. She rubbed her forehead with her hand. "Dr. Auge asked me to bring Mr. Carnegie's body into the morgue. When I got there, the light was already on. It smelled like something was burning, and when I walked further into the room, I found the burnt remains. I called security, and now here we are..."

"Yes, Ms. LeFay," the police officer said. "But we'd like to know why you're so calm about this. A normal person finds a body, they become hysterical."

"I work in a hospital. I'm used to death," Rosemary explained. She adjusted the position she was sitting in on the hospital bed. Officer Marks, the police officer, had brought her into one of the unused hospital rooms to get her statement.

Officer Marks raised his eyebrow. "You're a candy striper. A person with that job usually wouldn't see anybody's remains. And if they did, I guarantee you that the remains wouldn't be nearly as disturbing as what was found down in the morgue."

"I...uh..." Rosemary stuttered as she attempted to think of a reason to explain her reaction.

The police officer tightened his gaze on her.

"You don't think _I_ did this!" Rosemary asked. "What possible reason would I have for doing this? And why would I report the body?"

The officer took an intimidating step forward. "Maybe you wanted to throw suspicion off of yourself. Our records indicate that two years ago you were admitted to the hospital, a victim of a violent crime. You claim to have amnesia. Maybe that's not true, and you just got your revenge on your attacker. Not that anyone would blame you..."

"I'm NOT lying. I don't remember anything! And I most certainly didn't commit murder," Rosemary huffed in anger. She took a deep breath and was about to continue, but was interrupted when the door flew open and three concerned people stormed into the room.

"Rose!" Riley said. "Are you alright?"

Rosemary remained silent, still reeling from her anger.

Riley turned his attention to the police officer. "What did you do to her? Why won't she talk to me?"

"And who might you be?" the police officer asked, sizing up the man in front of him.

"He's my friend. Riley. He's a neonatologist here," Rosemary explained, then she nodded over to the other two people who had entered the room. "And that's Maggie. She's a nurse here, and I live with her. And I believe you already know Dr. Auge."

"Perhaps it's time for Rosemary to go home," Dr. Auge stated. "She just got done working a double shift, which ended in tragedy. She needs time to process everything."

"She's been through so much already," Maggie explained. "Enough is enough. I'd like to take her home."

"I'm not an invalid," Rosemary protested. "This is all standard protocol. I understand the process, even if I don't agree with the accusations. Either way, I don't need anyone speaking for me."

"Come on, Rose," Riley said as he helped her down from where she was seated on the hospital bed. "I'll drive you home. And I'll make you breakfast. After all, I still owe you that."

Rosemary smiled, despite the situation. "I'd like that." She turned her attention the the police officer. "Now, if your not going to arrest me-which you really have no grounds to do-then I am going to go home."

The police officer recognized his defeat. "Don't leave town."

"I'm not planning on it," Rosemary stated as she rolled her eyes. She grabbed Riley's hand and then walked out of the hospital room.

**AN: The next chapter is completely written and edited too. I'm going to try to post it this weekend. Realistically, it'll most likely be on Sunday. It all depends on when I get done working on set for the senior thesis film I'm working on...**


	8. Theory

**AN: Again, that's for all of the reviews and alerts! Now, we move on back to DC...**

CHAPTER 8:

It had been roughly three days since Brennan spoke with Caroline about Tristian Howards. And since that time, Brennan and her team of squints worked tirelessly searching for more evidence, stronger evidence, against Tristian Howards. Just knowing that Caroline believed in the possibility of Tristian's case being dismissed, that he would win his appeals, provided Brennan with even more motivation and determination to find Morgan.

Brennan had requested that Morgan's remains be exhumed, and they were expected to arrive at the Jeffersonian within a few hours. Hodgins was tasked with the job of finding out about _Erythronium rostratum_, the Yellow Troutlily flower that was found in Tristian's car. Angela was working with the Washington Metropolitan Area Transit Authority to track Tristian's car on the traffic cameras, in hopes that it would lead to where he had left Morgan. Cam was busy wrangling the interns. And Booth was in contact with area hospitals searching for any person who may have been admitted within the past two years that matched Morgan's description. As per Dr. Sweets's request, he also talked with local police departments seeing if they received any cases within the past two years with a victim who had amnesia or was too scared to provide an identity.

Director Cullen had asked that Agent Perotta be reassigned to Tristian's case as well. After all, she was the lead investigator when he was arrested. Brennan had greatly opposed this, claiming that it was Perotta's fault to begin with that they were in this mess. Wisely, Booth made sure that Perotta stayed out of the lab and away from Brennan.

"Dr. Hodgins, have you found anything to explain why the flower would have been found in Tristian's car?" Brennan asked for the fifth time in less than an hour.

"No, Dr. B. And I won't so long as you keep interrupting me every ten minutes," Hodgins replied. "Listen, I know you're a little restless right now. Your anxious for the remains to arrive, but you've gotta let me do my thing here. You know that you can't rush science."

Brennan sighed. "I know. You are correct, Dr. Hodgins."

Upon seeing Brennan's disheartened expression, Hodgins felt the need to give her at least some bit of hope. "At this point, my best guess is that he drove to Eastern Kentucky. That is the closet known place where_ Erythronium rostratum_ can be found."

"That is exactly why I don't approve of guessing, Dr. Hodgins," Brennan explained. "The statistical probability that Tristian drove to Kentucky shortly before he was arrested is miniscule, at best."

"It is statistically improbable, but not impossible," Hodgins stated. "I had Angela check for me, and the Kentucky border is about a 7 hour drive. Let's say he drove to Kentucky, dumped Morgan somewhere, and drove straight back. Factor in a minimum of an hour for traffic. That means it was a 15 hour trip. How much time passed between when you were at his house to question him and when he was arrested near GW University?"

"Um...I don't know...perhaps 15 or 16 hours," Brennan replied as she did the math.

"That would give him plenty of time to make the trip," Hodgins surmised. "Meaning that he would've been arrested just as he was arriving back into the city."

"But why would he go to all that effort?" Brennan questioned. "It's highly unlikely that was his chosen course of action. It's far more likely that he was in or near a flower shop that sells the Yellow Troutlily flower."

"_Erythronium rostratum_," Hodgins corrected. "And we looked into that possibility two years ago. Angela came up with nothing."

"Well then we need to look at it again," Brennan replied with an edge to her voice. She was about to begin to lecture Hodgins about how he should be following up on all aspects of the case anomalies, but the sound of a baby's cries caught her attention.

She looked over to the source of the noise, only to see Booth walking into the lab carrying a bawling Lilah. Brennan's eyes got wide and she ran down the steps of the platform to greet her husband and daughter.

"Booth, what happened to her?" Brennan questioned as she leaned down to place a kiss on Lilah's head. Lilah reached out to Brennan and grabbed onto her mother's neck with a vice-like grip. Brennan lifted Lilah out of her father's arms.

"I didn't do anything, Bones," Booth defended himself. "She just missed her mother." He watched as Lilah hid her face in the crook of Brennan's neck.

"Hmm...funny how you immediately try defending yourself when I in no way implied that you had done anything," Brennan commented. "Now, I'm not so sure. _Did you_ do something to our daughter?"

Booth sighed. "It's only because she's as stubborn and independent as her mother."

Brennan raised her eyebrow at Booth and waited for him to continue.

"You know that ceramic skull you bought me a while ago? The one that's sitting on my desk?"

Brennan nodded.

"Well it seems that your daughter inherited your fascination with bones. It caught her eye, so I took it down so she could look at it. But because it's breakable, I held onto it while she looked."

"Yes, you tried to abate her curiosity," Brennan said. "But I'm still not seeing the problem, Booth. Did she break it or something?"

"No," Booth said. "I wouldn't let her hold onto it on her own, so she got mad at me and started crying. And when she realized you weren't there to comfort her, she got even more upset. I haven't been able to calm her down since."

"Oh, Lily Ann," Brennan cooed at her still crying daughter while she pulled her even closer. "Did daddy make you angry? Don't worry, he makes me angry all of the time."

"Bones!" Booth protested.

"What? It's true, is it not?" Brennan said. She turned her attention back to her daughter who had calmed down slightly, but was still sniffling. "Come on Lily, let's get you into my office." She began to walk towards her office, with Booth following closely behind.

"Have the remains been brought in yet?" Booth asked as he shut the door to Brennan's office.

"If they had, do you really think I'd be in here?" Brennan replied.

Booth rolled his eyes. "I suppose not."

Brennan sat down on the couch, sitting Lily on her lap. Lily kept a hold of her vice-like grip on her mother, ensuring that she would stay close. Booth sat down on the couch beside them.

"Hodgins theorizes that Tristian brought Morgan to Kentucky," Brennan stated. "The timeline fits, but it's just guess work. It's highly unlikely."

"But it's a possibility," Booth replied. "One we haven't looked into yet. Maybe Sweets and I should stop by to have a chat with Tristian. You know, bring up Kentucky and see how he reacts."

"Would I be able to go with you?" Brennan asked. "To see Tristian, I mean." Brennan knew that she needed to find a way to ensure that Booth wouldn't find out any of the details from her visits. It would only cause him unnecessary cause for concern.

"Bones, I don't really think that's a good idea."

"Why not?" Brennan questioned. "I've gone to see him alone, plenty of times."

"I don't like knowing that you're in the same room with that psycho." Booth looked meaningfully into her eyes. They sat in relative silence for a few moments, until Booth's cell phone rang.

"Booth," he answered. "Yes, sir...A case?" He looked up at Brennan, only to see that she was looking right back at him. "Wait, where!" Booth looked down at the floor. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea, sir...I know...yes, sir. I'll see what I can do."

"We have a case?" Brennan asked. Her arms instinctively tightened slightly around her daughter.

Booth nodded. "Yep." He set his phone down onto the table. "It's out of town."

Brennan eyes grew wide, and then she quickly looked down at her daughter. "Booth, I can't." Brennan shook her head. "I can't leave her. I won't do it!"

"We can't take her with us, Bones," Booth sighed. "And we were requested for this case. You were requested. Apparently the remains were found in a morgue at a very prestigious hospital."

"Isn't it common for remains to be kept in a morgue?" Brennan asked. "Are they sure the remains didn't belong there?"

"They were found laying on the floor in the center of the room," Booth explained. "They had been recently burned to a crisp, reduced down to bones and ashes. That was a few days ago. Local police couldn't do anything. They're stuck. They need us, Bones."

Brennan sighed. "Where? Where would we be going?"

"Someplace in Kentucky."

And that was all Brennan needed to know. Kentucky. She could hit two birds with one stone. Work the case, while checking out Hodgins's theory.


	9. Is This Abandonment?

CHAPTER 9:

"Kentucky?" Brennan questioned. "Kentucky." She back looked down at her daughter, an air of sadness washing through her. "How long would we have to be gone?"

"However long it'll take us to solve the case," Booth replied. He waited for Brennan to make eye contact with him before he continued. "Despite sending in a request for our help-well, your help, really-the big wig officer in charge won't let us take complete control over the remains. They stay in Kentucky."

"Will we look for Morgan as well?" Brennan hesitantly asked.

"Yeah, we can do that," Booth said. "Might as well make the best of our time there. But remember, Kentucky is a big state..."

Brennan was silent, deep in thought for a moment as she pondered her options. She looked back down at Lilah. "We'll have to get someone to watch Lily while we're gone."

Booth nodded. "How about your brother?"

Brennan shook her head. "He and Amy took the girls down to Florida to visit Disney World. What about Jared and Padme?"

"Not gonna happen," Booth replied. "He may have straightened his life out, but he's still fairly irresponsible. No way I'm allowing him to take care of our daughter for an extended period of time. Max?"

"I...I'm not sure I feel comfortable with that," Brennan admitted. She didn't need to explain her reasoning, Booth implicitly understood. Her abandonment issues were coming out. Brennan adjusted her position on the couch under Booth's scrutinizing gaze. "How about Rebecca? That way Lily could spend some time with her brother. Parker would love that, wouldn't he?"

"I can't ask Rebecca to do that," Booth said. "She and Brent are in the middle of planning their wedding. They have enough on their plate already."

Brennan nodded in understanding. But they were running out of options.

A voice at the-now open-doorway startled them out of their conversation. "What about me? I can take care of her while you're gone."

"Ange, you would've been the first person I asked," Brennan explained. "You know that. It's just...well, I'm sure you're going to be really busy here helping us with the case. Plus you're five months pregnant, and I didn't want to burden you with taking care of a 7 month old."

"Really, Angela. We appreciate the offer, but it'll be too much for you to handle," Booth said.

"Nonsense," Angela said as she waved her hand through the air. "I'll have Hodgins here to help me. Plus, I usually have the most down time, out of anyone here at the lab. And Lily can spend the day here with me. She's here all the time anyways...and it's not like you've had much luck at keeping my goddaughter away from me in the past. Well, except for the times that Cam is in here. Then I can't get anywhere near Lily."

Brennan looked over at Booth. The offer was tempting. It didn't hurt that they trusted Angela the most out of their other options. Brennan smiled, and finally relented. "Fine. But make sure she continues to eat healthy. And don't be spoiling her either."

Angela smiled brightly as she came to grab Lily out of Brennan's arms. "I wouldn't dream of it. I only give her things that she needs or deserves. And, let's face it...she's a good kid, so she deserves_ a lot_!"

"We're serious, Angela," Booth replied, but was interrupted.

"Oh, calm down, G-man," Angela retorted. "I promise we'll be good. Now where are you going, anyways?"

"We got a case in Kentucky," Booth answered. "We're leaving tonight, and I'm not sure how long we'll be gone."

Angela nodded her head. "Okay." She turned her head towards Brennan. "By the way, the reason I came in here is to tell you that the remains have arrived. Wendell and Clark are laying them out now."

Brennan jumped up off the couch and hurried to grab her lab coat. "Why didn't you say anything before, Ange?"

Angela laughed. "Because they only just arrived. And I figured that we'd solve one problem at a time."

Brennan rolled her eyes as she buttoned up her lab coat. She turned her attention to Booth. "I'm going to perform another preliminary examination on the remains. Once I've completed that, I'll let Mr. Bray and Dr. Edison conduct the rest of the analysis. Then we can go home and pack for Kentucky." She turned and rushed out of her office without waiting for Booth to answer.

"Well, she's certainly determined to get to work," Angela said. She grinned and then turned towards Booth. She walked over to the couch and sat down, placing Lily on her lap. "Hodgins tells me that you had a little difficulty with your daughter this morning."

Booth sighed, letting a small smile grace his lips. "Turns out she likes to argue with me over her independence just as much as her mother does."

Angela laughed. "And why was she even at the Hoover this morning? Usually Bren keeps her here at the lab. Does the FBI even allow agents to bring their babies into work?"

"It was a one-time thing," Booth explained. "Bones wanted me to keep an eye on Lily while she took care of the exhumation and analysis of Morgan's remains."

"Right," Angela said. "Not that I'm complaining-which I'm not, 'cause you know I love the little girl-but why haven't you found a babysitter or nanny yet? Or enrolled her in childcare?"

"Bones doesn't want to do that," Booth replied. "She hasn't spent more than a few hours away from Lily since she was born. It worries her when Lily's out of her sight. Plus, she's really uneasy about leaving Lily with a complete stranger."

"That's understandable," Angela stated. "Especially considering Bren's past. Is she gonna be okay leaving Lily for a few days, maybe even a week or two?"

Booth shook his head. "I'm not sure."

"Well, you know you can trust me," Angela said. "Plus, Hodgins's mansion has security up the Wazoo. So there's really no need to worry."

"I know," Booth said. "Thanks, Ange."

"Anytime, G-Man. Anytime." Angela stood up and gave Lily back to Booth. "I should probably get some work done. Maybe I can get a lead on where Morgan actually is, while Bren tries to figure out who those remains really belong to."

"Ange, wait!" Booth said. He waited for her to turn around before continuing. "Do you think you could start a little early on watching Lily?"

"Yeah, sure," Angela smiled as she crossed her arms over her chest. She questioningly raised her eyebrow at Booth. "May I ask why?"

Booth stood up and walked over towards Angela. "Because...," he began as he handed Lilah over to her, "while Bones is working on the remains, I'm gonna swing by to pick up Sweets and then make a quick run down to FCI Petersburg. I'd like to have a talk with Tristian before I head out of town."

"Do you think that's a good idea?" Angela questioned. "Bren hasn't been able to get anything from him, other than that he didn't really kill Morgan."

"That's why I'm bringing Sweets," Booth replied. "I'll question Tristian, maybe I'll mention Kentucky. Then Sweets will tell me what Tristian is trying to hide."

"Okay, but be careful," Angela warned. "I'll tell Bren after you leave. I'll make sure she gets home in a few hours to get started on packing."

"Great, thanks, Ange. I appreciate it."

"No problem-o, G-Man." Angela winked before walking out of Brennan's office and into her own, with baby girl Booth in tow.

oOo

"Hey, sweetie," Angela said as she walked up the stairs of the platform. "You about ready to go?"

Brennan slightly shook her head, keeping her attention on the remains spread out in front of her. "Go?"

"Yeah. Go," Angela smiled. "You've been bent over the remains for the past 4 hours, Bren. I told Booth I'd get you home so you could start packing the things you'll need for Kentucky."

"You're going to Kentucky, Dr. Brennan?" Wendell questioned.

Brennan nodded her head. "My presence was requested for a case." Brennan went back to concentrating on the remains.

Angela walked up and placed her arm around Brennan's shoulders. "Which is why you need to get home to get ready. Booth should be getting back soon, and I had made him a promise that I'd get you out of the lab. Now let's go." Angela began to pull Brennan away from the autopsy table.

"But I'm not finished yet, Ange," Brennan protested. She looked over her shoulder towards the remains. "I have to finish my examination."

"Wendell and Clark are more than capable of doing that," Angela reasoned. "They can handle it, Bren. Don't worry. Now get into your office and get your things. I'm going to go get Lily, who-I might add-is sleeping peacefully in my office after having watched footage from the aquarium on my big TV."

Brennan smiled slightly at her friend's statement, but stopped walking.

When Angela realized that Brennan was no longer walking beside her, she turned around. "Sweetie, is everything okay?"

"Am I doing the right thing?"

"Right thing about what?" Angela questioned.

Brennan placed her hands on her hips. "Leaving. Is it the right thing to do?"

Angela smiled. "You're not leaving, sweetie. You're traveling to Kentucky to work on a case. It's not like you're planning to stay there forever. You'll be back. Lily will be fine."

"It just...it doesn't feel like I'm doing the right thing, Ange."

"But you are," Angela stated. "You're going away to solve a murder. You're definitely doing the right thing."

"Somehow I don't think Lily will see it that way," Brennan argued. "She cannot comprehend the idea of murder. She'll see me leave, and I won't be back for a few days. Maybe a week. During the time I'm gone, she'll think I've abandoned her. I can't...I won't..." Brennan took a deep, calming breath and sighed. "She shouldn't have to think things like that, Ange."

"Sweetie, Lily _knows_ you're always here for her," Angela said. "She has no reason to think you've abandoned her. If she can't comprehend murder, then I'm pretty sure she can't comprehend abandonment."

"Yes she can, Ange," Brennan pointed out. "She'll need me, or want me, and I won't be there. I won't be there for her." Brennan crossed her arms over her chest. "Perhaps I should no longer go work in the field. At least not on cases that require me to leave for extended periods of time."

"Dr. Temperance Brennan, not go in the field?" Angela scoffed. "Now I've heard everything." Angela wrapped her arm around Brennan's shoulder and began to lead her friend into her office.

"I don't know what that means," Brennan said as she allowed herself to be guided into her office.

"Yes, you do," Angela stated. "Now get your things ready."

Brennan smiled as she walked towards her desk. "Do you think Booth would be upset if I asked one of my interns to come along with us. You know, to train them in the field for out-of-state cases..."

Angela chuckled. "Depends on which intern you ask."

"Hmm...I suppose you're right," Brennan admitted. "Unfortunately, I don't have many options. There's no way I'm taking Ms. Wick-for obvious reasons. Mr. Vaziri has once again switched his academic focus. He's gone back to cultural anthropology. I don't feel comfortable bringing Mr. Fisher into the field."

"So, that leaves Clark, Wendell, and Vincent."

Brennan nodded her head. "Wendell would be the obvious choice. Booth and he get along very well. But I would like him to remain here working on Morgan's case. He's the only one, besides Vincent, who has worked on that case from the beginning."

"So take Clark," Angela said.

"I'm sure Dr. Saroyan would appreciate it if the only other person with a doctorate in forensic anthropology remain in the lab," Brennan replied. "He should oversee Wendell's examination of the exhumed remains, while simultaneously helping with the new case."

"So, that leaves Vincent."

"I suppose so," Brennan said. "I cannot leave him here to work on Morgan's case. He's too personally involved with that. He does appear to be our only option."

"But there's still a problem with that, isn't there?" Angela mused.

Brennan nodded. "He hasn't worked an FBI case since Morgan. He's chosen to continue his internship working solely on the remains in modular bone storage."

"Limbo," Angela corrected. "Remember what we discussed...limbo is the perfect name."

"You know I dislike the use of that term," Brennan retorted.

Angela chose to ignore that comment. "And then the other problem is that Vincent has taken up quite the habit of spending all of his spare time drowning his sorrows at the Founding Fathers."

"Yes, he has developed quite the inclination to consume large quantities of alcohol," Brennan stated.

Angela shook her head at her friend's obliviousness. "He's trying to numb the pain, sweetie." Upon seeing Brennan attempt to protest her statement, Angela changed the subject. "Do you think he's ready to get back into the field, though?"

oOo

"No, absolutely not," Vincent answered. He set down his shot glass and signaled to the bartender to get him another. "I don't work cases anymore, Dr. Brennan. I will not be going out into the field with you."

"Mr. Nigel-Murray," Brennan said. "I understand that you've been going through a tough time since what happened to Morgan, but I could really use your help."

"No."

"As a forensic anthropologist, you are required to go out into the field. And to occasionally work on cases with local police and the FBI," Brennan explained. "That is, unless you'd like to change career paths."

Vincent remained quiet as the bartender filled his shot glass. He nodded and muttered a quiet 'thanks' before turning his attention back to Brennan. "What does it matter anymore? I'm what you Americans call 'washed up'. Useless." He downed the shot of vodka that was sitting in front of him.

Brennan was shocked to see the once eager grad student behaving in this manner. Despite having strengthened her people skills over the years, high-strung emotional situations such as this always made her uncomfortable. She wasn't quite sure what to say. "You're not useless."

Her voice was quiet, barely a whisper. But somehow the words got through to him. He looked up at his mentor. "And what makes you say that? What have I possibly done over these past two years that comes off as anything but useless?"

"You've solved countless cases from limbo," Brennan answered. "I know you prefer to examine the older remains, but you still are making a difference. You're giving those people back their identities. Letting their stories be told."

Vincent nodded.

"There's no one else I can take, Vincent," Brennan pleaded.

Vincent noticed the seriousness of the situation when his mentor referred to him by his given name, rather than his surname. "You really are upset about leaving your daughter, aren't you Dr. Brennan?"

Brennan smiled. "Is that a yes?"

Vincent took a deep breath. "That is a yes, Dr. Brennan."

"Great. Booth and I will stop by your apartment to pick you up in a few hours," Brennan stated. "I've already packed everything we need from the lab. I just need to get my personal affects in order, and say goodbye to my daughter."

Brennan started to make her way out of the bar, but was stopped by Vincent's voice calling through the crowd.

"Thank you, Dr. Brennan."

She turned around and took a few steps in his direction. "For what?"

"Having faith in me. And in my abilities."

"I don't believe in faith," Brennan honestly said. "You've proven to me the extent of your abilities time and time again. I know you're good at what you do, and will be an asset to us in the field."

"Still...thank you."

Brennan nodded and smiled to herself as she turned around. Perhaps she was getting better in her interactions with people, after all. Now she just needed to explain to Booth why she was bringing an extra person along.

**AN: Next chapter we will see Booth and Sweets take a trip to visit Tristian. It should be the last chapter with them in DC. Then we'll get to the juicy bit of the story :D**


	10. Mind Games

**AN: Alright, so I may have lied to some of you by saying that this would be posted on Wednesday. Sorry about that, I chose to spend all day yesterday finishing a paper that was due at my 7 PM class last night. So, this got pushed back one day...**

**Disclaimer: Yes, time for one of these...I do not own Bones. That is, unless HH and the wonderful people at FOX decide to sign everything over to me...**

**Oh, Happy Bones day everyone! And everybody already knows this by now, but Em is going to be a great mom :)**

CHAPTER 10:

"Why hello, Agent Booth," Tristian's cold voice echoed off the walls. "I see you've brought along a little friend." He looked over Booth's shoulder to where Sweets was standing. Tristian then greeted Sweets in a less welcoming tone. "Hello, Dr. Sweets. Nice to see you again."

Sweets ignored Tristian's comment and walked further into the room.

"Oh, I see how it's gonna be," Tristian stated evenly. He turned his attention back to Booth. "Any chance you brought the lovely Dr. Brennan with you? She really can't seem to get enough of me." Tristian locked eyes with Booth and let a large smirk cross his face. "She comes to visit quite a lot."

Booth glared at the man sitting in front of him, but chose not to comment on Tristian's attempts to get under his skin.

"You know," Tristian continued, "she makes those trips to the conjugal trailer even more appealing. She is very..._spirited_...to say the least."

Booth knew that the man seated before him was just trying to bait him, and Booth was determined not to let it work.

"Still nothing? Really?" Tristian questioned. "You know, this whole quiet routine is so NOT intimidating." He brought his hands up off of his lap and rested his arms on the table. He leaned forward slightly. "How's your daughter?"

Booth rounded the table in an aggressive march so that he was towering over Tristian. "Who told you about her?"

Tristian smirked. "You just did. I always knew you and the good doctor had a child together. After all, Dr. Brennan did come here to visit _me_ while she was pregnant with_ your_ child. But she never did tell me whether it was a boy or a girl. I always thought that it was a girl, though. What's her name?"

Booth clenched his fists at his sides in an attempt to restrain himself from hitting the sick, sadistic man in front of him. Booth needed to remember why he was here in the first place. It wasn't to discuss Brennan, although he knew he needed to have a talk with his wife when he saw her again. But now was the time to get answers about Morgan.

"You know, I can't wait to meet her," Tristian smiled. "Boy would I ever like to get both of your girls alone in a room-"

Booth snapped. He no longer could restrain his anger as his fist collided with Tristian's jaw, mid sentence. "Don't you _ever_ talk about them again. Don't you even_ think_ about them."

"Agent Booth," Sweets spoke up for the first time. "Perhaps you should put some space between yourself and Mr. Howards. And remember what brought us here to begin with."

Booth took a deep breath before walking towards the opposite side of the room, effectively putting as much distance between himself and Tristian as possible in the tiny visitor's room.

"What happened to your wrist?" Sweets questioned. "It's in a cast. What happened? Another inmate get tired of your antics?"

"Actually," Tristian began, "Dr. Brennan did it. She's a very..._passionate_...woman. You know how people can become a bit rough when they're in the throes of passion."

"Agent Booth," Sweets warned upon seeing him take a step closer to Tristian. "He's just goading you."

"She's what gets me through the nights, you know," Tristian stated. "I'll never forget the way she felt in my arms; the way her tiny little waist fit perfectly in my hands; the way her firm ass pressed against my groin as she moved so freely into my body. Mmmm...so perfect."

Booth stormed over to Tristian, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, dragged him out of his seat, and threw him against the wall. "Wanna say that again?"

Tristian silently watched the anger in brewing in Booth's eyes. Tristian laughed, knowing that he had gotten under the agent's skin.

"You think this is funny?" Booth gritted out.

"Not at all, Agent Booth," Tristian said. "This is a very serious matter, we've gotten ourselves into here."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Booth questioned.

"Well, my appeals are going to be over in a matter of months. Maybe even weeks, if my lawyer succeeds in moving up my court date. Do you honestly think you can keep me away from your wife and your daughter, while simultaneously trying to keep Morgan safe? You'd have to find her first."

Booth let go of Tristian and took a couple of steps back. He nodded to Sweets, signaling him to continue now that they've finally gotten on the right topic for discussion.

"What did you do with her?" Sweets asked. "She's obviously not in the city. We would've found her by now."

Tristian rolled his eyes. "Gee wiz, you sure are good at your job, Dr. Sweets. How long did it take you to figure that one out?"

"We've known for a while, actually," Booth stated. "We've just been trying to figure out the most likely place you took her."

Tristian raised his eyebrow, waiting for Booth to continue.

"You see, right now our best scientists are guessing Kentucky," Booth said.

Sweets carefully watched Tristian's expression and body language change from that of confidence to that of carefully guarded surprise. Tristian's facial expression suggested shock. His body language screamed nervousness.

Booth began to pace as he continued his line of thought. He, too, noticed the change in Tristian's demeanor. "But that's just a guess. We both know that scientists shouldn't guess. They're no good at it."

"Ain't that the truth," Tristian laughed nervously. "Why would anyone go to the trouble of driving a dead girl all the way to Kentucky?"

"But she's not dead," Sweets pointed out. "Therein lies the motivation for taking such a drive."

Tristian remained quiet for a few moments, contemplating what he was being told. After some careful thought, he managed to speak again. "You know...there's a town in West Virginia, near the Pennsylvania border. It's called Morgantown. You may want to check there. I honestly have no clue how your so called_ scientists_ came up with Kentucky."

"The evidence," Sweets answered. "They found a particulate from something in which the closest location it can be naturally found is Kentucky."

"You're lying," Tristian concluded.

"No, we're not," Booth replied. "The evidence was there. Did you bring Morgan to Kentucky, Tristian?"

"I feel I should inform you, Agent Booth," Tristian began. "There is another town in West Virginia, only this one's near the Ohio border. It's called Parkersburg. There is also a town in Michigan called Temperance. Perhaps you may wish to rethink your options before you decide to continue with your quest to find Morgan. If you continue, you _will_ have to suffer the consequences."

oOo

"Hey, Studly," Angela greeted as Booth walked through the door. "You were gone a while."

Booth just nodded and walked further into his apartment.

Angela threw a questioning glance at Booth. "Alright, chatty Kathy, don't say too much at once."

"Is Bones here?"

"Yeah, she's in her room packing the last of her stuff," Angela answered. She stood up from the couch and walked towards Booth. "Is everything okay, G-Man? What's going on?"

Booth shook his head. "Nothing. It's just...it's been a long day."

"I hear you on that one," Angela agreed. "You and Sweets get anything out of your visit with Tristian?"

Booth sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "She's in Kentucky. Sweets said something about deflecting, or something like that, when we asked about it. Plus he started with threats once he found out that the evidence Hodgins' found points to Kentucky."

"Threats?" Brennan questioned as she walked into the living room where Booth and Angela were standing. "What threats?"

"I'll tell you about them later, Bones."

"Booth-"

"Where's Lily?" Booth interrupted.

"In our room," Brennan answered. "She fell asleep while attempting to help me pack." She took a couple of bags off of her shoulder and reached out to Angela. "Here. This should be everything you'll need. But if you find you're missing something, you have a spare key so feel free to come over here to get whatever you may need."

"Thanks, Bren," Angela said as she accepted the proffered bags. "I'm sure we'll be fine."

"Here, Ange, let me get those for you," Booth said as he grabbed the bags from her hands.

"Aww...thanks, Booth," Angela said. "Alright, Bren. Go get that beautiful baby girl for me. I should probably get home to Hodgins."

Brennan nodded and then silently walked down the hall and into her bedroom. Lilah was still asleep, right where Brennan had left her. Brennan smiled as she walked over to the bed where her daughter slumbered.

"Alright, baby girl," Brennan whispered, as she sat down on the bed next to Lilah. "It's time for you to go home with Auntie Angela."

Brennan lightly ran her hand through Lilah's short, auburn hair. She leaned down to kiss her daughter's head. It was going to be difficult to let Angela leave with her daughter, but she knew it was only temporary. Brennan felt the bed stir next to her, and when she looked down at her daughter's face, she saw two bright blue eyes smiling up at her.

"Well, hello there, Lily Ann," Brennan greeted.

Lilah giggled and then reached her arms out towards her mother. Brennan picked up her daughter, sat back against the headboard of her bed, and cuddled Lilah in her arms.

"I'm really going to miss you, baby," Brennan whispered as her eyes began to fill with tears she was desperately trying to hold in. "But you're going to have so much fun with your Auntie Angela." Brennan sniffled as she struggled to hold in her tears.

"Mama," Lilah cooed as she reached out to grab her mother's hand.

Brennan laughed, despite her tears. "That's right, Lily. And you just have to remember, I'm going to be right back. I may not be around for a few days, but I _will_ be back soon. I'm...I'm not abandoning you."

"Bones-" Booth spoke quietly from the doorway.

"Booth," Brennan breathed out. She reached out and wiped the tear that was falling down her cheek. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough," Booth answered.

Brennan sighed. "I don't think I can do this, Booth. I'm not ready."

"It'll be fine," Booth replied as he walked over to her. "Bones, you can do this. You're the strongest person I know. Besides, Lily loves her Auntie Angie." Booth reached out and mussed his daughter's hair, smiling as he heard her soft giggles. "Don't ya, bug?" He looked back up at Brennan. "She's gonna be fine, Bones."

"I know," Brennan replied. "It's just difficult."

"Come on," Booth said as he reached out to grab Brennan's free hand. "The sooner we leave, the sooner we'll be back."

"That's actually not necessarily true," Brennan countered. "But I understand the underlying meaning of your sentiment."

"Hey, Hey! Look at that," Booth said gleefully. "You're improving, Bones."

"Yes, I know," Brennan smiled. "I've also become quite adept at telling jokes, as well. Much more so than you are, now."

"Ha! That's highly unlikely, Bones," Booth laughed. "That's one thing that I will always be better at. You'll always have your science, I'll have my humor."

Brennan furrowed her eyebrows. "I'm not sure that's quite accurate, Booth."

"Sure it is, Bones."

oOo

It took them a while to finally say goodbye to Angela and their daughter, but after about a half an hour of hugs, kisses, and some tears, the partners were finally alone in their apartment finishing the last of their packing.

"So, how'd your visit with Tristian go?" Brennan inquired, unsure if she wanted to know the answer.

"It went fine," Booth answered vaguely.

"What were those threats you mentioned?" Brennan asked as she picked up her bags and began to walk towards the door.

Booth shook his head and followed after her. "He just doesn't want us to find Morgan, that's all."

Brennan stopped just shy of the door and turned to face Booth. "But...but he _threatened_ you?"

"Well, not _me_ exactly," Booth answered.

"Then who?" Brennan inquired. When Booth didn't reply, she came to her own conclusion. "Me? He threatened me?"

Booth sighed. "Yeah, Bones. He did." Booth set his suitcase onto the floor. "And Parker. He even threatened our daughter."

Brennan's eyes sharpened in accusation. "You told him that we had a daughter?"

"Unintentionally," Booth countered. "Bones, he said some things, when I went to question him. And I...uh...I gotta know if they're true."

"What things?" Brennan asked.

"Did he, touch you? Or...or hurt you in any way?"

Brennan broke eye contact and looked to the floor. "Every visit, Tristian would threaten me, make innuendo. Last time I was there, he grabbed me as I was leaving. Pulled me against him. So I broke his wrist."

Booth clenched his fists in anger.

"I can take care of myself, Booth."

Booth's jaw tensed and he swallowed hard. "I know you can, Bones."

"And you realize that's all it is? Just threats, right?" Brennan questioned. "He can't actually _do_ anything."

"As of now, yes," Booth replied. "But when he gets out-"

"Nothing is going to happen," Brennan stated confidently. "And he's not going to get out of prison. Not if I have anything to say about it."

"Right," Booth said. "Let's just get going."

The duo picked up their bags, once again, and then continued their journey towards his SUV. Booth threw everything into the back of the vehicle, and then joined Brennan inside.

"I can't believe that the FBI is making us drive there," Booth complained. "Why won't they just let us fly out there."

"Because," Brennan began to explain, "it is far cheaper for them to pay for the gas than it would be to pay for airplane tickets. Kentucky isn't that far, after all. And despite the poor gas efficiency of a large SUV, it's still far less expensive than the alternative."

Booth rolled his eyes as he started the engine of the car. "Of course it is."

"Plus, this way I was able to invite along one of my interns," Brennan stated.

"Wait, what?"

"Oh, we are bringing along Mr. Nigel-Murray," Brennan smiled.

"And why are we doing that?" Booth asked.

"Well, there are a few reasons, actually," Brennan explained. "First, and foremost, is because I want to train one of my interns to be able to perform the functions of this job in out of state cases. That way, I won't _have_ to go out of town. Although I am reluctant to give control of field work over to someone else, especially an intern, I am comfortable in knowing that, in the future, I'll be able to stay with Lily."

"And the other reasons?"

"We can put more focus on searching for Morgan," Brennan answered. "And if we find her, I'm positive Vincent would come out to Kentucky anyways."

"Yeah, I guess you're right about that," Booth admitted. "Plus, this'll be good for him. Working an actual case, and getting him out into the field rather than inside of a bar."

"Exactly," Brennan replied. "Now take a right turn here."

"Why?"

"Because, as I have already stated, we're going to pick up Mr. Nigel-Murray." Brennan answered. She looked out the window in surprise as Booth continued to drive straight. "Booth, you missed the turn."

"I didn't miss it, Bones," Booth retorted. "I'm just going a different, quicker, way."

"That was the quickest way to get to his apartment, Booth."

"No, it wasn't. If we went that way, we'd run into traffic," Booth said. "Trust me, my way is better."

"Better is such a subjective term," Brennan grumbled.

"Yeah well, it's the truth," Booth laughed. "You'd better not be like this the whole drive out there."

"Like what?"

"A backseat driver," Booth replied.

"I don't know what that means," Brennan stated. "I'm not sitting in the backseat. Plus, I would assume that it'd be relatively difficult, if not impossible, for someone seated in the backseat to drive a vehicle."

**AN: Not sure exactly when the next update will be posted, but I'm going to try to get it up soon. It'll be the much anticipated arrival of B/B in Kentucky. Will they finally meet up with Morgan next chapter? Well, only time will tell.**

**Anyways...I work 14 hours tomorrow, and on Saturday/Sunday I'm spending some much needed time with my good friend up in LA, whom I haven't seen since mid-March, so that's kind of the reason I'm unsure about the timing of the next update.**


	11. Arrival

**AN: I apologize for not answering all of the reviews from last chapter, but the semester is winding down and I've been extremely busy. But I'm finally on Spring Break...YAY! So, I'll be spending the entire week home alone in a creepy old house (all my friends are either in Vegas or have flown home). But hey...at least I'll have plenty of time to work on this story before I dive into finishing up my final papers...**

CHAPTER 11:

The drive to Kentucky went by relatively uneventful. They arrived to Ashland, Kentucky quicker than the expected 7 hours, mostly due to light traffic conditions and, on Booth's part, driving slightly over the speed limit. Vincent had drifted off in the back seat hours ago, the alcohol he consumed earlier in the evening causing him to pass out shortly after departing the DC metro area.

"Booth, what are we doing here?" Brennan asked as Booth pulled his SUV into the parking lot of a small motel near the center of town. "I thought we'd be heading straight to the police station so we can begin working on the case."

"Bones, it's 2 AM. We just drove 6 hours, and we need to sleep," Booth replied. He parked the car outside of the main entrance and nodded his head towards the building. "And this is the place the FBI is putting us up."

Brennan took in the sight of the slightly run down building in front of them. She sighed, and then looked back towards Booth.

Booth chuckled at Brennan's displeased expression. Both he and Brennan got out of the car and made their way towards the entrance. Booth grinned and pointed at a sign hanging in the window. "Hey, would you look at that, Bones! They rent rooms by the hour! That's a tell-tale sign of a no-tell motel."

"I don't know what that means," Brennan stated.

"Yes you do, Bones. Just think about it. Why would someone want to rent a room by the hour?"

Brennan furrowed her eyebrows as she thought about Booth's statement.

"C'mon, Bones. Two people, searching for an empty room where they can be _alone_ for a few hours..."

Brennan's face light up as she finally understood what Booth was implying. "Oh! You were stating that a couple might come to this location so they can engage in a few hours of sexual intercourse." Brennan scrunched up her nose. "Perhaps we should find an alternate sleeping arrangement."

"Nah, Bones. It'll be fine," Booth replied. "This is where the FBI wants us. Plus, it's right near the crime scene."

"I suppose you are correct," Brennan stated.

"That's right," Booth smiled as he wrapped his arm around Brennan's shoulders. She willingly leaned into his larger frame and brought her own arm around his waist. "Now let's get checked in so we can get some rest before heading into the police station to meet the sheriff."

With that, Booth and Brennan walked into the motel lobby to collect their room key as well as Vincent's key.

"How y'alls doin'?" the man seated behind the counter greeted with a thick southern drawl. "My name's Leroy. What can I do for you mighty fine people tonight? Yous lookin' for an hourly rate?" Leroy smirked as his eyes wandered over the couple, staying a little bit too long on Brennan.

Feeling uncomfortable under the man's intense gaze, Brennan pulled away from Booth's embrace. "Actually, we have a reservation. Two rooms."

Leroy's smirk widened and he winked at Brennan. "Well in that case-"

"Don't even think about it, pal," Booth interrupted as he pulled out his badge to show the man. "Now, how about those rooms?"

"Right," Leroy said. "I ain't mean no harm, man. Can ya really blame me? I mean...look at her."

"I'd prefer if you didn't address me as if I wasn't standing right here," Brennan said.

"Sorry. No disrespect, ma'am," Leroy raised his hands in defense. He turned around and pulled two keys off of the wall. "Alright, here we go. Sir, you'll be in room number 238, which is around the back of the motel on the second floor. Ma'am, you'll be in room number 101, which is the first door on the left when you walk back out the door right over there." He nodded towards the door Booth and Brennan had previously entered through.

Booth rolled his eyes, not bothering to correct the man on his assumption that he and Brennan would be sleeping in separate rooms. "Thanks."

The man nodded and then locked eyes with Brennan. "Now, if ya need anything, I'll be here all night. Just go ahead an give me a holler."

Brennan nodded and plastered a fake smile on her face before grabbing the keys, turning around, and walking back towards the door. Booth saluted to the man, ran to catch up with Brennan, and grabbed her free hand with his. Reacting to his touch, Brennan turned her head to place a quick kiss to Booth's cheek.

As soon as they exited the lobby, Booth looked to Brennan and said, "Please tell me we'll be taking the room in back. We'll let Vincent have the room closest to the lobby. I have no desire for you to be that close to _Leroy_."

"Booth!" Brennan scolded. "I don't need to be protected from anyone. Admittedly, he wasn't exactly subtle-"

"He was practically undressing you with his eyes," Booth interrupted. "Can you really blame me for wanted to keep you as far from that man as possible?"

"I appreciate the gesture," Brennan confessed. "But just remember that I am capable of taking care of myself."

They walked back out to the SUV, where they woke up Vincent. The three of them gathered their bags and made their way into their rooms. Booth immediately went into the bathroom to change, then came back out and fell onto the bed in exhaustion.

"Hey, Bones," Booth said. "You gonna join me?" He lifted his head up and looked at Brennan, who was standing by the window and looking outside through the curtains.

"I'm not tired, Booth," Brennan answered. "I should be working on the case, not sleeping."

"You can't do anything until we speak to the local police and the county sheriff," Booth stated. "You need to rest."

Brennan sighed, but remained where she was.

Booth got off the bed and walked over to Brennan, wrapping his arms around her from behind. "What's really on your mind, Bones?"

Brennan took a moment before answering. "I should call Ange and see how Lily is doing."

"There will be time to do that in the morning," Booth said. "It's late. They're probably asleep by now." Booth brushed aside Brennan's hair, giving him access to her neck. He brought his lips down to meet her soft, milky white skin.

Brennan moaned quietly when Booth hit a particularly sensitive spot. "Booth..." Brennan turned around in his arms, and immediately pulled his head down to hers. Their lips met in a passionate battle, each vying to come out on top.

Booth groaned and pulled Brennan flush against his body. She responded by bringing one of her legs up to his waist. He held her leg in place by hooking his hand around her knee. He thrust his hips into hers, allowing her to feel his prominent arousal.

Brennan moaned, louder this time, before separating her mouth from his. His lips trailed kisses down a path on her neck. Brennan giggled and then huskily whispered into his ear, "I thought you were tired."

"I'm never too tired for this, babe," Booth said as he crashed his lips to hers once again.

oOo

A few hours later, Brennan lay awake next to Booth's naked, sleeping form. His arm was wrapped around her, and her head rested on his chest. She ghosted her fingers across his abdomen in a random pattern. Brennan lifted her head and looked over to the clock: nearly 5 AM. Brennan sighed and then placed a kiss onto Booth's chest, before slowly disentangling herself from him and quietly walking into the bathroom.

After taking a quick shower, Brennan made her way back into the bedroom wearing only her towel. Brennan froze when she noticed that Booth was standing in front of the open door speaking with Leroy, who was shouting about something.

Leroy stopped short when he noticed Brennan standing in the bedroom, wet and wearing only a towel. His eyes widened as he took in the sight in front of him.

Booth turned his head back into the room to find what Leroy was looking at. Brennan threw her husband a shy smile before grabbing her bag and walking back into the bathroom.

When Brennan came out of the bathroom a second time, this time fully clothed, Booth was no longer standing by the door. Instead, he was seated on the bed, flipping through the motel directory. Sensing Brennan's presence, he lifted his head.

"What was that about?" Brennan questioned as she pointed towards the door.

Booth laughed. "Well, _Leroy_ got upset because he went to room 101 to pay you a visit, only he came across Vincent instead of you."

"So he came up here to find out what happened?"

"Yeah," Booth replied. "He sputtered some crap about motel policy and needing to know what guests were in what room. Really, he was just looking for a booty call. He got really upset when he saw I beat him to it." Booth nodded to the trail of clothes that were still laying haphazardly on the floor.

Brennan rolled her eyes. "What time are we allowed to head down to the police station?"

"We've got a meeting with the sheriff and chief of police at 8 AM, so we've got a little more than two hours," Booth answered. "I'm going to grab a quick shower, then would you like to get some breakfast?"

"Sure," Brennan answered. "Would you like me to inform Mr. Nigel-Murray of our plans?"

Booth nodded and then made his way into the bathroom to begin his morning routine. Luckily for him, the water pressure in the shower wasn't as bad as he expected, and, thankfully, Brennan hadn't used all of the hot water.

When Booth came out of the bathroom, Brennan greeted him with a big smile and a kiss.

"What was that for?" Booth asked.

Brennan shrugged her shoulder. "I just felt like it. So, I called Vincent. He's not in the mood to eat anything, so it looks like it's just the two of us. We'll pick him up before heading over to meet the sheriff."

"I figured he wouldn't be hungry," Booth stated. "He's probably still a little hungover."

"That is quite possible," Brennan agreed. "Shall we head out?"

Booth nodded and then took her hand. They exited their room, and, instead of leading her to his SUV, Booth began to walk towards the street. Sensing slight hesitation from Brennan, Booth turned to look at her. "C'mon, Bones. Let's enjoy some of this small town atmosphere. We'll walk around, explore the neighborhood, and talk to some of the locals. Let's see what we can find out about this place."

oOo

It was a normal morning. At least, as normal as mornings got these days. The past two years had been difficult for her, but add on the fact that the local police department seems to want to throw her in jail for murder one just made things even more complicated. Luckily for her, she had her makeshift family at the hospital who jumped in on her defense. At least she wasn't completely alone in this world.

In her attempt to keep things normal, Rosemary woke up early, threw on her workout clothes, and made her way out onto the streets of Ashland for her daily morning run. When she got to the park, she decided to spend some time merely walking around and observing the natural beauty of the landscape. She slowly made her way around the park, eventually ending up in the playground. Rosemary smiled as she watched all of the innocent young souls running around and playing before they were ushered to the school.

"Hiya, Miss Rosie!" a sweet, childish voice yelled from the sea of children crowded around the monkey bars.

Rosemary turned around to see the sheriff's daughter, Ruthie Lee, running towards her. She had a big smile on her face, and her rose colored, freckled cheeks were glowing with delight in the morning sunlight. Her curly brown hair was pulled up in pigtails with white ribbon and her bangs were hanging low in her bright blue eyes. She wore a blue sailor's dress with a white bow in front and matching white faux-leather ballet shoes that completed her outfit.

"Hey there, Ruthie Lee!" Rosemary smiled as the girl approached her and reached up her outstretched arms, indicating for Rosemary to pick her up. "What are you doing here? Where's your daddy?" Rosemary took a quick look around, but didn't see the sheriff.

"Daddy's gotta meet some G-men!" Ruthie yelled. "Mamaw, brought me here!" Ruthie pointed towards a bench where an older woman was dozing off while reading a book.

"I see," Rosemary stated. "You wanna go for a walk with me by the pond? See if we can chase some ducks like we did last week?"

Ruthie nodded enthusiastically.

"Alright, go tell your mamaw," Rosemary instructed. She watched as the hyper little girl ran over to the lady on the bench. The little girl animatedly told her grandmother where she was going.

The grandmother took a look over at Rosemary and waved with a satisfied smile upon her face. "Miss Rosie LeFay! Yous best be careful wit my granbaby!"

Rosemary laughed. "No problem, mamaw Bev!"

Ruthie bounced her way back over to where Rosemary was standing. She grabbed Rosemary by the hand, and began to pull her towards the pond. The entire time, Rosemary kept a close watch on their surroundings. In the distance, she saw a man and a woman walking aimlessly around the pond. They were holding hands, and Rosemary smiled at witnessing the love the couple shared. She found herself wondering if she would ever have that kind of feeling with Riley. Rosemary smile grew a little wider.

"What's so funny?" Ruthie asked.

"Nothing, hun," Rosemary replied.

"Uh-uh, you're lying," Ruthie pointed out. "You're thinking about your boyfriend, ain't you!"

"What! No."

"Yeah you are," Ruthie said. "You have the same look on your face as my ma gets whenever pops gets home from work. What's your boyfriend's name?"

"I don't have a boyfriend, Ruthie Lee," Rosemary answered. "And you best mind your own business, or else I'm gonna start asking _you_ questions. Like, what's _your_ boyfriend's name?"

Ruthie blushed before replying. "I don't have a boyfriend, Rosie. Boys are gross, and messy, and like bugs, and they smell."

Rosemary laughed. "Tell me that again in 10 years."

Rosemary once again found her eyes searching the area for the man and woman she saw a few minutes earlier. They were much closer than she thought they would be, and she could now discern more details about their actual appearance. The man was tall, muscular. He had his arm wrapped around the woman, whose auburn hair shown brightly in the sunlight. Suddenly, Rosemary froze. Her breathing began to come out in erratic gasps as she struggled to catch her breath.

"Rosie, what's wrong?" Ruthie worriedly asked.

Rosemary began to shake violently as panic filled every cell of her body. She used what little strength she had to duck behind a trash bin. Rosemary pulled Ruthie with her.

"Rosie, you're scaring me!" Ruthie cried out. "Get up! Rosie, please!"

"H..have...do you k...know those people?" Rosemary asked, pointing to the auburn haired woman and brown haired man who were walking along the path about 100 yards away from them.

Ruthie peaked around the edge of the garbage can. "No. That's weird, I know everyone!"

"I think I know them," Rosemary stated. "Fr...from before."

"What's their names?" Ruthie asked, her curiosity rising.

Rosemary shook her head. She didn't know their names. But she was certain she knew them.

Ruthie nodded and then got up, wiping the dirt from her knees. She began walking towards the strangers.

Rosemary panicked even more and called after the little girl. "Ruthie, don't!"

Ruthie ignored her and approached the man and woman. "Hiya!"

oOo

Instead of grabbing breakfast right away, Booth and Brennan stumbled upon a large park near their motel. It was a beautiful place, surprisingly busy for this early in the morning. They were walking around a carefully cared for pond that was home to a variety of animals and was decorated with a few fountains in the center that sprayed water upwards toward the sky.

"Hiya!"

Booth and Brennan stopped walking and looked down at the little girl standing in front of them.

"Hey there, sweetheart," Brennan said, crouching down to get on the same level as the girl. "Can we help you with something?"

"Who are you?" the little brown haired girl bluntly and innocently asked.

"Well, I'm Dr. Temperance Brennan and this is my husband Agent Booth. Who are you, sweetheart?"

"I'm Ruthie Lee Appleby," the girl replied and then turned her bright blue eyes to Booth. "You're a G-man?"

Booth nodded and smiled as he pulled out his badge to show the girl. "I sure am. See?"

"My daddy's got a meeting with a G-man today!"

"Appleby? Is your dad the sheriff?" Booth asked.

Ruthie nodded.

Brennan looked around, searching for this girl's parents. "Sweetheart, where is your father?"

"Down at the police station."

Brennan nodded and then looked the girl in the eyes. "May I ask how old you are, Ruthie?"

Ruthie nodded. "I just turned 5." She held out her hand and demonstrated her age on her fingers.

Booth looked around, searching for someone who was supposed to be keeping an eye out on this little girl. Surely, no one would let this little girl wander around the park by herself, even in a small town like this. "Who are you here with, kiddo?"

Ruthie pointed over to the benches. "My mamaw." And then she pointed over to the garbage can. "And my friend Rosie. She's not feeling too well, though."

"She's not, huh?" Booth asked.

Ruthie shook her head. "She stopped walking and got_ really_ pale. She was breathing weird, and then started shaking."

Brennan looked around in concern. "Where is Rosie now, sweetheart?"

Ruthie once again pointed towards the garbage can.

"Booth, keep an eye on her," Brennan instructed as she stood up and took a few steps towards the trash receptacle. She slowly closed the distance, rounding the corner of the garbage can, stopping short when she saw that the space was empty. Brennan furrowed her eyebrows and then walked back towards Booth and Ruthie. "There's no one there."

Ruthie's eyes widened. "But she was just there." She looked around in panic. "Do ya think she's okay? My dad is gonna be so mad when he finds out I let something happen to Rosie."

"How old is Rosie, sweetheart?" Brennan inquired, worried that perhaps Ruthie's friend was another young child that was suddenly missing.

"I dunno," Ruthie shrugged. "But she's old enough to babysit me once in a while."

"Then I'm sure she's fine," Brennan reassured the girl. "If she's old enough to be entrusted with your safety, then I'm sure she can take care of herself. Is it okay if I take you back to your...mamaw, was it?"

Ruthie nodded.

"You know, kiddo," Booth began. "It's dangerous to talk to strangers."

"I know..."

"So why'd you do it?" Booth questioned.

"Rosie said she thought she know'd you," Ruthie innocently said. "Daddy said that you need to help her sometimes...to remember."

"Why would you need to do that?" Brennan asked.

"She had an accident," Ruthie explained. "She ain't right in the head no more. Someone knocked the memories right outta her."

"She has amnesia?" Brennan questioned.

Ruthie shrugged. "I dunno. What's an...am..."

"Amnesia? It's when someone can't remember things," Brennan explained.

"Yeah, she has that!"

Brennan shared a meaningful look with Booth. He nodded, understanding the hidden meaning.

"Alright kiddo," Booth said. "Lead us back to your mamaw."

**AN: Okay, this chapter was getting WAY out of hand. It was up to 23+ pages, and I wasn't even done with it. So I went back and found a suitable cut-off point, and decided to post what was written up to there. I hope you enjoyed these 10 pages, there is plenty more to come!**


	12. Comfort & Accusations

Chapter 12:

She ran. Ran as fast as she could, as far as her body would allow. She knew it was wrong, she shouldn't have left Ruthie Lee alone in the park with complete strangers. But Rosemary saw the badge; an officer of the law. Rosemary knew that an officer wouldn't hurt the little girl, especially since that little girl was the sheriff's daughter.

But more importantly, Rosemary saw the man who was holding the badge and the woman standing next to him. Their sudden appearance into this town sparked the fear that seeped down deep into her bones, into the very core of her being. Sure, it was irrational fearing the unknown, fearing someone that she didn't know and couldn't even identify if her life depended upon it. But she _did_ know them. Of that, she was sure. Yes, she couldn't tell you who they were, where they were from, or how their paths have crossed before. But she _knew_ them. They were from her past, the past that has recently come back to haunt her in the dark of night as she slept in the safety of her bed. Now it seems, her past has chosen to haunt her waking hours as well, while she is out in the world and away from the protection of her home. And that's what made her run.

Her legs finally gave out on her as she reached the confines of his front yard. She crashed onto the ground, the sharp blades of grass breaking her fall. She fought hard against the tears that were threatening to cascade down her face. She took a deep, shaky breath before using the last of her strength to push herself up and back onto her feet. She slowly made her way up the front steps so that she was standing under the awning of the front porch. She brought her hand up to wipe away a stray tear and then knocked onto the door. She anxiously awaited for him to answer, fiddling with the zipper of her track jacket in a nervous manner.

A few seconds later, he came to the door. "Rose?"

She lifted her head to look him in the eye. "Riley." Her voice came out in a broken, cracked whisper.

He looked over Rosemary's appearance. She looked tired, like she hadn't slept in days. Her eyes were a puffy red and watery. Her bottom lip quivered before she bit down on it in a nervous habit. Riley hesitated only a second before reaching his arms out and pulling her into his embrace.

A few tears leaked from her eyes, but she refused to break down completely. She was determined to remain strong, and she drew strength from his warm embrace.

"Come inside," Riley whispered into her ear. He pulled back slightly, leaving his arm wrapped around her shoulder as he led her through the door and into the living room of his home.

She quietly sat down onto the sofa and placed her hands into her lap. Riley remained standing as he watched over her in concern.

"Did you want anything to drink?"

Rosemary shook her head in the negative, so Riley took a seat on the coffee table in front of her. He placed his hand onto her knee. "Are you okay?"

Rosemary started to nod her head, but changed her mind. "No, not really."

"Did you want to talk about it?" Riley asked, looking directly into her eyes. "Because, I'm here for you. You know that, right? You can tell me anything."

Rosemary searched his eyes, looking for a reason to doubt the sincerity of his statement. She found none. So far, nobody knew exactly what she had been going through. She's told bits and pieces to people, mostly Maggie, but no one knew the entire story. She took a deep, calculating breath, then she told him everything: her nightmares, her memories, her fears, and her insecurities.

"So, the man and woman...you know them?" Riley clarified.

Rosemary exhaled, then shrugged her shoulder. "I think so."

"But you can't be sure?"

Rosemary shook her head. "I do know them. I have to, otherwise it makes no sense why I would react the way I did when I saw them."

"Why didn't you just go talk to them?" Riley asked. "_If_ you knew them, surely they would've recognized you."

"I _know_ them," Rosemary emphasized, washing away any doubts Riley had about her statement. "From my past...but are they good people, or bad people? Are they the ones responsible for putting me in the hospital, for making me lose my memory?"

"I thought you said that the man, Vincent, did all of that to you."

"He did," Rosemary explained. "But was he the only one? Was he working alone?"

Riley was quiet for a moment. "But I thought you said that the man had a badge. He's a police officer."

"He's probably an FBI agent," Rosemary clarified. "Ruthie Lee told me that her father had a meeting with one today."

"Well, if he's FBI, then I highly doubt he helped put you in the hospital."

"If he's FBI, that means he's investigating the body I found in the morgue," Rosemary stated. "Which means, that he'll know that I'm the number one suspect. I need to stay away from him."

"But if he knows you," Riley began, "then he can help clear your name."

"You don't get it, do you?" Rosemary huffed in anger. "The police want to throw me in jail! It doesn't matter whether or not those people knew me in the past."

Rosemary stood up and began to pace in front of Riley, who was still seated on the table. She was getting worked up, and it was getting difficult to breath. She unzipped her track jacket to relieve some of the pressure on her chest. She pulled the jacket completely off, leaving her in just her black, cropped spandex yoga pants, which folded over on the top with a camouflage design, and her matching camouflage workout bra. Rosemary scrunched her jacket into a ball and threw it at the couch in a fit of anger. "I'm not that person anymore!"

Riley could barely focus on the words Rosemary was yelling. His mind kept wandering to the fact that Rosemary was standing in front of him, revealing miles more of her skin than he'd ever seen before. Her skin tight pants hugged her body perfectly, and her tiny workout bra revealed her creamy white, toned stomach. A stomach that literally bore the scars of her past.

"Rose-" Riley said as he reached out to stop her from pacing.

"Don't! Just don't," Rosemary ordered, swatting his hand away. "I've been through hell and back, Riley! After what I've been through, they're gonna believe that I'm capable of doing that to a person, especially if they think that I believe that's the person who hurt me. The local police think I'm trouble. They're gonna warp the story until the FBI believe so as well!"

Riley got up and closed the distance between himself and Rosemary. She was radiating anger and resisted his initial offer of comfort. "Rose. Hey, look at me."

She lifted her head up and made eye contact for the first time since beginning her angered rant.

"I believe in your innocence," Riley reassured her. "So do Maggie and Dr. Auge; the entire staff at the hospital, really. Even the sheriff knows that you're too good of a person to hurt anybody. He wouldn't trust you with his kid, otherwise."

"But the sheriff isn't in charge of the case," Rosemary countered, her voice returning to a normal volume. "He's just supervising as the local police take lead. And the locals, headed by Officer Marks, want to see me in jail."

"That's not going to happen, Rose," Riley implored. "You_ are_ innocent. They've got nothing on you. Unless they manufacture evidence, they can't charge an innocent person with murder."

"Ri," Rosemary said as she shook her head. She threw herself into his arms, tucking her head against his shoulder. "Thank you."

Riley wrapped his arms around her and ran his hands up and down her back. Feeling her fragile frame so vulnerable in his strong arms, he couldn't resist the need to protect her. Nor could he resist the urge to place a reassuring kiss on the crown of her head.

Rosemary backed away slightly, lifting her head up. She locked eyes with Riley, then her gaze flickered down to his lips. Lips that had just been placed a top her head, spreading a wonderful feeling through her body. She stood up on her tip toes, bringing her head up to his level. Her lips hovered millimeters from his. Her eyes locked with his yet again. Seeing the same wanton expression in his eyes that was sure to be reflected in her own, she leaned forward and lightly brushed her lips against his.

The brief kiss ended much too quickly. Riley leaned down to rest his forehead against Rosemary's. Their breaths mingled between them, tickling the other's lips. He was lost in the swirls of her hazel eyes; she was just as lost in his kind, emerald ones. Rosemary brought up her arms to wrap around his neck, running her fingers lightly in his hair.

"I mean it, Ri," Rosemary huskily whispered. "Thank you."

Riley leaned forward and closed the gap between their lips. Both sets of eyes fluttered closed at the contact. His lips were warm and welcoming, parting when she demanded more. She longed to become lost in his soft caresses. To forget the pain and turmoil, even if just temporarily. And Riley was providing that option. She deepened the kiss further, pulling herself so that her body was flush against his.

oOo

Booth, Brennan, and Vincent made their way into the small, pristine building that was the local police department. After bringing Ruthie Lee back to her mamaw, Booth and Brennan hurriedly walked back to the motel to get Vincent. Any thoughts of breakfast had been completely forgotten. Both Booth and Brennan were anxious to talk to the sheriff about Ruthie's friend, Rosie. Although neither mentioned it, both were curious about this girl's story. A young woman with amnesia could perfectly well be Morgan. It would explain why she had never tried to contact them after Tristian's arrest. But in the back of their minds, they both knew that the odds of her living in the very same small town they were called in to investigate a case were slim to none.

"Good morning!" An overly peppy blonde receptionist called out as Booth, Brennan, and Vincent entered the building.

"Good morning," Booth greeted as he pulled out his badge. "I'm Agent Booth. This is my partner Dr. Temperance Brennan and her assistant Mr. Nigel-Murray. We're here for a meeting with Sheriff Appleby and Chief Holden."

"Yes, they are expecting you," the receptionist replied. "Have a seat over there, and Officer Marks will be out shortly to bring y'all back."

"Thank you," Booth smiled. He turned around to grab his wife's hand and led her over to the bench on the side of the room. Vincent remained standing on the opposite side of the room, staring out the window.

"Booth," Brennan whispered directly into his ear. "Do you think we should ask the sheriff about Rosie?"

Booth flicked his gaze over toward Vincent. "Yeah, I'll do that. But I want to wait until you and Vincent head over to the morgue."

"Why?" Brennan asked in surprise.

Booth sighed and rubbed his hand against the back of his neck. "Because we don't need to put Vincent through all of this. Once we actually know something, we'll tell him. But until then, we should keep him out of this."

"I understand," Brennan said. She leaned her head down to rest on Booth's shoulder. They stayed that way until an officer came out to get them.

"Agent Booth?" the officer said as he walked into the room.

Booth and Brennan stood up. Vincent walked over to join them.

"Hello, I'm Officer Marks. I'm the officer in charge of the investigation. My partner, Officer Briggs, and I will be joining you in the meeting with Sheriff Appleby and Chief Holden. I hope you don't mind."

"The more the merrier," Booth smiled. "This is my partner Dr. Temperance Brennan and her assistant Mr. Nigel-Murray."

"Pleasure," Officer Marks replied, reaching out to shake their hands. "Now if you'll follow me..." Officer Marks turned around and led the trio further into the station. They passed by several uniformed officers before reaching the Chief's office.

"Chief Holden?" Officer Marks called as he opened the office door.

"Come in, come in. Please, have a seat," Chief Holden said, waving them in. "You must be Agent Booth." Chief Holden reached out and shook Booth's hand.

"Yes," Booth replied. "And this is my partner-"

"Dr. Brennan! It's an honor to meet you," Chief Holden smiled. "Thank you so much for agreeing to helping us with the case. As Officers Marks and Briggs can assure you, we've been having a hell of a time learning the victim's identity."

"Well then, you've definitely called the right person," Booth proudly stated. "Bones here, she can find out anything."

"Bones?" a man, Officer Briggs, questioned with an amused expression on his face.

"It's a nickname," Booth explained.

"And whom might you be?" Chief Holden asked as his eyes wandered over to Vincent. "I'm sorry, it's just that we were only expecting Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan."

"This is one of my interns, Mr. Nigel-Murray," Brennan said. "He'll be assisting me with the remains."

"Alright, then," Chief Holden said. "Now, you've already met Officer Marks and his partner, Officer Briggs. That man over there is Sheriff Appleby. He's here as a courtesy to us. Now, let's get down to business."

Officer Marks took that as his cue to fill everyone in on the status of the case. "About 4 days ago, a hospital employee found the remains in the basement of King's Daughter Medical Center. Dr. Auge asked her to bring the body of a deceased patient into the morgue. She _claims_ that when she arrived, the room was already lit and she could smell something burning. She also mentioned that she felt like someone was down there with her, and she immediately called hospital security."

"This hospital employee," Booth said. "What's her name? I'd like to speak with her."

"Rosemary LeFay," Officer Marks answered. "Right now, she's bucking as the number one suspect."

"And why is that?" Brennan inquired. "Because she found the body? That in no way indicates that she is responsible for putting it there."

"Listen, Ashland may not be the safest place to live," Officer Marks explained. "We got our problems just like everywhere else: Rape, Robbery, Assault, Theft. We've pretty much got it all. But the one thing we don't got here is murder. Manslaughter, maybe. But outright murder? Practically unheard of."

"And this points to Ms. LeFay how, exactly?" Booth asked.

"Two years ago, a young woman is found on the side of the road, left for dead. She's bloody, battered, and unconscious. The doctors_ say_ she was raped. She almost died 3 times while in the hospital. Now, she claims to have no memories. And that woman, is Ms. Rosemary LeFay."

"So, because she was a victim of one crime, that automatically makes her the perpetrator of another?" Brennan asked, outraged.

"No, that's not true," Sheriff Appleby stepped in. "That poor girl went through hell, but she's not a murderer."

"We haven't had a single violent crime, in years, with the exception of what happened to Rosemary," Chief Holden announced. "We were never able to catch the perp who did those unspeakable things to her. And now we've got this murder."

"Which is why I believe that Ms. LeFay is responsible," Officer Marks argued. "We never caught the man who tried to kill her. As I stated, she _claims_ to have no memories of her past. None. I find that hard to believe. I think she knows more than she's letting on. She knows who hurt her. And she took things into her own hands."

"So basically, Officer Marks," Booth interrupted, "you're on a witch hunt."

"I'm not going to just sit here while you persecute an innocent girl when you have absolutely no evidence," Brennan protested. "So if you don't mind, I'd like to have a look at the remains."

"Yes, I think that would be an excellent idea, Dr. Brennan," Sheriff Appleby agreed. "I'll take you over to the hospital morgue, myself."

"Thank you, Sheriff," Brennan said. "Mr. Nigel-Murray will be joining us." Brennan looked over to her husband. "Booth?"

"I'm going to stay here and speak with Officer Marks, Officer Briggs, and Chief Holden," Booth stated. "I'd like to learn a little bit more about Ms. LeFay."

Brennan nodded. "Okay. Shall we leave, then?"

Sheriff Appleby nodded and then walked over to the door. Vincent followed close behind.

Brennan stood up, then leaned down to whisper into Booth's ear. "Morgan?" Feeling Booth nod, Brennan pulled back. "Call me when you're on your way to the morgue."

Booth nodded once again. "Be careful."

**AN: Yay! Another update! I didn't mean to drag this out so long (what was intended to be 1 chapter is now stretched out to 3!)...I'll make sure that the next chapter will have at least one of our friends come face-to-face with Rosemary/Morgan. When that one gets posted, it may just be the longest chapter yet :)**


	13. Of Killers, Cell Phones, And Moving On

**AN: I know I promised some of you that a certain something was going to happen this chapter. But I wasn't completely satisfied with that scene, so it's gonna happen next chapter. I really wanted to update though b/c I feel like it's been a while, and I owe it to you.**

**Oh yeah...and I'm celebrating the death of Bin Laden. I never thought I'd feel joy in the loss of a human life, but this must be the exception!**

CHAPTER 13:

"You and Dr. Brennan sure seem comfortable with each other," Chief Holden said as he handed over Rosemary's file.

"Yeah, I guess," Booth said, reaching out to pick up the proffered file.

"Uh, do you know if she's seeing anybody?" the chief asked.

Booth's gaze sharpened on the man in front of him. "Yes. Me. Why?"

"She's dating you?" Chief Holden said, surprised. "I don't know how you do things back in DC, but here in Kentucky that ain't allowed."

"Yes, well we were given an exception to that rule," Booth said. "We work better together than we do apart. Bones refuses to work with any of the other agents."

"How long have the two of you been together?" Chief Holden asked.

Booth shrugged his shoulders, keeping his eyes locked on the file in his hands. "A few years. Is this everything you have on Ms. LeFay?"

"Yep, that's everything," Officer Marks answered.

"The injuries she sustained are noted in the medical report," Officer Briggs offered. "Chief Holden took her statement when she was ready to speak with law enforcement."

"Rosemary LeFay is not her actual name, is it?" Booth questioned.

"No," Chief Holden shook his head sadly. "We ran her description through missing persons, but never found anything. There was one probable match back east, but we were unable to follow up on it. The missing woman had been found dead."

Booth ducked his head in shame. If Rosemary really was Morgan, he knew exactly why she was declared dead. Instead of focusing on his guilt, Booth turned his attention to the file in his hands. A passing truck driver had found her on the side of the road, barely breathing. She stopped breathing on her way to the hospital, but the paramedics were able to revive her. Her heart rate crashed twice: once during surgery and once while in ICU. Her list of injuries was extensive: a collapsed lung, five broken ribs, cuts and lacerations throughout her body which were badly infected, and a broken ankle which required extensive surgery and physical therapy. The rape kit had been positive for signs of forced sexual activity.

Booth felt the bile rise up in his throat as he began to read through her police statement, which was undeniably short. She had no memories, so was unable to recount what had happened to cause her to be hospitalized. Booth closed the file and threw it onto the desk. "How'd she get her new name?"

"Nurse at the hospital chose the name Rosemary," Officer Briggs said. "I'm not sure how see chose her last name."

"The nurse took Rosemary in when she was ready to be released from the hospital," Officer Marks stated. "She stills lives there."

"What was the nurse's name?" Booth asked.

"Maggie Dawson," Chief Holden replied.

"I'd like to speak with Ms. Dawson, as well as Ms. LeFay," Booth said.

"Sure thing," Chief Holden said." Officers Marks and Briggs will drive you over to the Dawson residence."

oOo

Booth slowly walked up the sidewalk of a tiny, two-story colonial house. The house was made of red-brick with white trim, navy blue shutters, and a matching door. He made his way up the painted blue steps, followed closely by Officer Marks and his partner. When Booth reached the landing of the porch, he rang the doorbell and waited for someone to answer the door.

A few seconds later, the door cracked opened. "Hello?"

Booth pulled out his badge. "Good morning, ma'am. My name is Agent Booth. Are you Maggie Dawson?"

Maggie nodded, then opened the door further. "Please come in, Agent Booth." She looked past Booth, glaring at the officers behind him. "You two are welcome to wait _outside_."

"Come on, Maggie," Officer Marks smiled. "You know we mean no harm."

Maggie raised her eyebrow at the man and crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh, is that what ya call tryin' to throw a poor, innocent girl behind bars for a crime she didn't commit? No 'harm'?" Maggie scoffed. "As I said, officers, you can wait out here."

"We're just trying to do our job, ma'am," Officer Briggs insisted. "That means investigating all avenues of suspicion."

"Then why are ya idiots still sniffin' around my Rosie for?" Maggie asked. "Go pursue other _avenues_ of the investigation. I'm only talkin' to the G-man, 'cause he's new. Maybe I can talk some sense into this boy."

Booth turned back to look at the officers behind him. He smirked at them before following Maggie into the kitchen of her home. She motioned for him to sit down on the stool. She walked over to the cabinet to pull out a plate of cookies, which she set on the counter in front of Booth. Then she pulled an empty glass from another cabinet and poured him a glass of lemonade.

"Go on," Maggie encouraged as she placed the lemonade in front of him. "Eat up."

"Thank you, ma'am," Booth said, taking a cookie from the plate. "Mmm...this is a really good cookie."

"Thank you," Maggie smiled. "Rosemary and I just made them last night. Family recipe."

Booth took a drink of his lemonade and then placed the cup back onto the counter. He threw a charm smile at Maggie. "How long have you known Ms. LeFay?"

"Nearly 2 years," Maggie answered. "That girl is a breath of fresh air around here, I tell ya."

"It was very kind of you to take her in," Booth commented. "I looked at her file. That girl has had a rough couple of years."

"She sure has," Maggie sighed. "She ain't no killer, Agent Booth."

"I know," Booth agreed. "But I would still like to ask her a few questions. Is she here?"

Maggie shook her head. "She left early this morning. She usually leaves early for her morning run, which takes her by the park. She'll normally come back here to shower before heading off to work. But she's got the day off today. She should've been back by now, though."

"Do you know anywhere else she may have gone?" Booth asked.

"She and that nice new doctor, Riley Scott, seem to be hitting it off real good," Maggie said. "Perhaps she's with him."

Booth nodded.

"I'd call her to let her know you're looking for her," Maggie started, "but she lost her cell phone a few days ago."

"That's alright, ma'am," Booth replied. "I'll just take a trip over to Dr. Scott's house to see if she's there."

Maggie shifted her stance and put her hand on her hip. "Why are you so insistent on talkin' to her? The police already have her statement. You don't know the identity of the victim. What more could you possibly need from that girl?"

"I've only just recently become an active participant on the case," Booth explained. "I like to interview witnesses and suspects personally."

"I ain't so sure I like the idea of that," Maggie replied. "That poor girl has been through more than anyone could possibly imagine. Why would you want to put her through more?"

"I don't intend on putting her through any more unnecessary pain," Booth answered.

"You better not, Agent Booth, because I swear..."

Booth smiled and put his hands up in surrender. "I'm glad Rosemary has had someone like you on her side."

oOo

"So, this is where the remains were found?" Brennan asked as she followed Sheriff Appleby into basement morgue. She walked into the room, looking around and cataloging her surroundings.

"Yes," the sheriff replied. "Rosie found the body right over there, around that corner."

Brennan walked around the corner and looked at the area, which was now completely cleaned of all proof the remains even existed. "And where are the remains now?"

The sheriff walked over to one of the metal cabinets that were used for temporarily storing deceased bodies. He pulled out a key, slid it into the lock, and opened the cabinet door. He pulled out the tray, revealing the burnt remains. "Mr. Carpenter, the resident mortician, will be arriving later this afternoon. He can help you, if you need it."

"Thank you," Brennan said as she pulled on a pair of black, latex gloves. "But I see no reason why I should need anymore assistance."

"Okay," the sheriff said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his business card. "I have to go pick up my daughter, but if you need anything, feel free to give me a holler."

Brennan smiled at the sheriff and took his card. "I'll be sure to do that. Thank you."

Sheriff Appleby nodded and then turned to walk out of the morgue.

Brennan turned her attention to Vincent. "Mr. Nigel-Murray. I am going to take some samples from the remains to ship back to the Jeffersonian. When I'm done, I'd like for you to clean the bones."

Vincent nodded. He was standing near the edge of the room, and his eyes were looking at everything except the victim's remains.

Sensing something was wrong, Brennan took a step closer to Vincent. "Is everything okay, Vincent?"

"Ah...yes, Dr. Brennan," Vincent answered. "But, would you mind if I went outside for a moment? To get some...uh...fresh air."

"Sure," Brennan replied. "Take all the time you need."

Vincent smiled, then quickly made his way out of the room.

Brennan shook her head and then began to focus on the remains. She took a notebook out of the desk drawer and began to write down her initial observations: Male, late 50's to early 60's, and approximately 1.75 meters tall. As Brennan prepared to take samples from the remains, Brennan's phone rang.

Brennan walked over to her bag and pulled out her phone. "Brennan."

"Hey, Bren! How's everything going over there?" Angela's cheery voice came over the line.

"Things are fine," Brennan said. "I've just completed my preliminary examination of the remains and have begun to collect samples to send back to Hodgins."

"Good, good," Angela said. "Listen, I've got something to tell you."

Brennan was immediately concerned. "Lily? Is everything okay with her? She's not hurt, is she?"

"Bren, calm down," Angela replied. "Everything is fine with the sweet baby girl. Don't worry. You've already called 3 times today to check up on her. And if anything went wrong, I would tell you right away."

"I know," Brennan sighed. "So, what is it you wanted to tell me?"

"Cam, Wendell, and Clark have finished examining the remains on our end," Angela explained. "They definitely don't belong to Morgan."

"How can you be so sure?" Brennan asked. "We were unable to make a positive identification previously."

"We still don't know who those remains belong to, but Clark found some features on the skull that suggest the victim was mixed-raced."

"Compared to determining sex, age, and stature of skeletal remains, race determination is far less precise," Brennan said. "And in mixed-raced individuals it is even more difficult. It is possible we overlooked something in our initial examination."

"Yes," Angela agreed. "Clark and Wendell found both Mongoloid and Caucasoid features on the victim. I'm running our new findings through missing persons, but haven't found anything yet."

"Okay, Ange," Brennan said. "Keep me updated."

"I will," Angela replied. "So, how's Vincent doing working on the case?"

Brennan sighed. "I am unsure. He's...we barely got started before he needed to take a break."

"It's hard for him," Angela reasoned. "He probably sees her every time he looks at the remains on his table."

"But the victim is a male," Brennan said, confused.

"Too literal, sweetie," Angela said, rolling her eyes. "Listen, I've got to get going. But my advice is to let him take as many breaks as he needs. It's his first time back, and it'll help him be more focused."

"Okay, Ange," Brennan said. "And Lily's really doing okay?"

Angela laughed. "She's fine, sweetie. Now get back to work."

Brennan laughed as she brought her phone down from her ear and disconnected the call. She smiled to herself as she set her cell onto the table and walked backed over to the remains. Just as she was about to resume taking samples, she heard the faint sound of buzzing. She straightened up and looked around the room, searching for the source of the noise.

As she walked towards the furthest corner of the room, the buzzing got slightly louder. In the corner of the room stood a metal shelving unit. Brennan began to look through the contents of the shelf, but was unable to find anything that was making noise. As she decided to ignore it, one final thought struck Brennan. She knelt down onto the floor and looked underneath the shelves, revealing the source of the buzzing. Brennan smiled in triumph and reached under to pull out the device: a cell phone.

When Brennan looked at the screen, she saw a flashing message indicating a low battery. Luckily, she owned the same brand of phone and had the forethought to bring her charger with her. Brennan walked to her bag, pulled out the charging cord, and plugged in the phone.

Knowing that the phone was no longer in risk of dying, Brennan flipped open the phone and began to look through it. Thirteen missed calls and 25 unread text messages. Brennan scrolled through the missed calls, but didn't find anything too interesting. Choosing to temporarily respect the owner's privacy, Brennan decided against reading the text messages. Instead, she went to the photo album.

Brennan brought up the oldest photo on the phone, dated nearly 2 years ago. It was of a young woman laying in a hospital bed, bruised and battered beyond recognition. She had a few stitched-up cuts on her face, a split lip, her right eye was swollen shut, and her entire face was covered in bruises. She had a nasal cannula tube that provided extra oxygen into her system. Sticking out of the right side of her chest was a chest tube, treating a collapsed lung.

Underneath the photo was a written description that read,_ 'So I don't forget...'_

Brennan took a deep breath and flipped to the next photo. It was taken once the girl had fully recovered. She was still wearing her casts, but her cuts and bruises had all faded away. Brennan nearly dropped the phone when her mind registered the face staring back at her in the picture. Morgan. She was here. Alive. And they actually found her.

oOo

"Are you sure about this?" Riley asked, pulling away from Rosemary. He had her pinned against the wall, and her legs were wrapped around his waist. Their bodies fit together perfectly, as if they were made for each other.

_Are you sure about this?_ Those words echoed through her mind. Was she sure? She simply didn't know. Did she want to take this step? Was she ready? It had been two years since her assault, and Riley was an amazing guy. But her memories of that painful incident were just beginning to manifest themselves. Everything seemed so new; yet, logically, she knew it happened years ago.

What Rosemary wanted more than anything at this moment was to forget. To forget everything. Her pain. Her memories. Her fears. The knowledge that things were changing, too quickly for her liking. And Riley provided her with that opportunity. The feelings he stirred within her were refreshing. She felt alive, living in a world full of possibilities. She felt happy. She felt safe for the first time, at least as far as she could remember. So was she ready for this step, to cross this line?

She looked into his sparkling emerald eyes, darkened with lust, and made her decision. "Yes."

Riley smiled. "Good. But if anytime you want to stop, just say so. Okay?"

Rosemary nodded, pulling his head down to hers. The spark ignited once again as their lips met. The flames of passion engulfed them as they lost themselves within their hidden desires. Rosemary pulled Riley tighter against her body. His lips trailed down her jaw, her neck, and to her collar bone. She arched against him, begging to feel more. Her hands traveled down the front of his body, reaching for the hem of his t-shirt and pulling it up over his head.

Her eyes widened as she drank in the sight of his muscular chest and toned abdominal muscles. She brought his lips against hers, once again, and let her hands roam over the sculpted planes of his stomach before coming to to lock behind his shoulders.

Riley moved his lips over to Rosemary's ear. His heated breath ticked as he whispered sweetly, "God, you're beautiful, Rose."

He sucked her earlobe into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth. She let out a pleasured moan as she dug her fingernails into his shoulder, pulling him closer.

As Riley's lips once again began to travel down her neck, Rosemary felt a strange twinge in her stomach. She ignored it, chalking it up to nerves. As Riley began to attempt removing Rosemary's workout bra, the twinge in her stomach came back stronger than before, causing her eyes to fly open in surprise. The twinge she felt wasn't a normal reaction to arousal, or nerves for that matter. "Ri..."

"Mmmhmm," Riley mumbled, leaving his lips locked in their place on her shoulder.

"Ri, you need to stop," Rosemary whispered. "Please."

Riley's head snapped up and his gaze locked with hers. "What's wrong? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Rosemary shook her head. She unhooked her legs from around his waist and let them fall onto the floor so that, once again, she was standing on her own. Her eyes remained locked with Riley's warm, ocean blue eyes. _Blue eyes? No, he has emerald eyes._ Rosemary shook her head, trying to bring herself back to the present.

"Rose, talk to me," Riley pleaded, running a hand through his messy, chestnut brown hair. _Wait, Riley has slightly shorter, golden blonde hair._

"What happened?" Riley said. "Rose?"

"I...I..." Rosemary stuttered, struggling to focus. She didn't know what was wrong with herself. Rosemary shook her head, trying to purge herself of whatever was causing her mind to play tricks on her. "I think I need to go."

"Did I do something wrong?"

Rosemary shook her head no. "It's just, I'm not ready."

Riley nodded his head. "I get it."

"I...I'm sorry," Rosemary said. "It's just...I...I thought I was. But I'm not." Rosemary pushed herself away from Riley, walking to the couch to pick up her discarded track jacket. After pulling it over her shoulders, she turned to Riley. "I really am sorry."

"Don't worry, Rose," Riley smiled, trying to lighten the mood. "I'm glad you stopped things. I don't want to rush you." He walked over to Rosemary and took her hand. "Come on, I'll give you a ride home."

Rosemary smiled at him, taking back her hand. "I think I'd prefer walking, but thank you. It'll give me time to clear my head."

Riley nodded. He walked her over towards the door. "If you...uh...need anything-"

"I know," Rosemary interrupted. "I'll call." With a smile, she opened the front door. As she began to step through, her eyes locked onto the car parked on the street. A cop car. Rosemary panicked and pushed her way back into Riley's house.

"What's wrong?" Riley asked.

Rosemary put her hand up, signaling Riley to be quiet. She slowly made her way over to the front window, and peaked through the curtain to look at the police car. Three men were beginning to get out: Officer Marks, his partner Officer Briggs, and the man from the park. Rosemary knew she was right. FBI. He's here to work on the case.

**AN: Next chapter will be updated soon. I just want to make sure I'm happy with it first. And trust me, the wait will be worth it!**


	14. Close Encounters

**AN: I'm sorry it's been nearly 2 weeks since an update. That's the longest I've ever gone without posting and I feel horrible! I've only have one week left of classes, in which I'll be busy with final exams/papers and graduation. So, there might not be another update for a while. But I'll try my hardest to update next week, even if it's just a short chapter. But to make up for it, here is a nice 16 page chapter! Very much anticipated, if you're still reading it anyways...**

**PS: if you haven't seen _Hole in the Heart_, don't read the author's note at the end of this chapter!**

CHAPTER 14:

After leaving Maggie Dawson's house, Booth had Officer Marks and his partner drive him over to Dr. Riley Scott's home. Officer Briggs had been reluctant to drag the new hotshot doctor into the mix, but Officer Marks was persistent, saying that his relationship with the prime suspect already brought him into the investigation.

When the police standardized Crown Victoria slowed to a stop, Booth lifted his head to look out at the surrounding houses. Dr. Scott lived in a well-to-do neighborhood on the southern end of town. All of the homes in this part of town had large yards, bountiful greenery, and were intricately decorated to show off the owners' wealth. Riley Scott's home was no different. It was a brick, ranch style home with an old treehouse high up in one of the trees out front. It was the very picture of country living.

Booth shook his head and opened the car door, stepping out onto the warm pavement beneath. While Booth waited for the two police officers to make their way out of the car, he let his eyes once again assess the features of Riley Scott's home. The red brick was accented with white trim and a big white front door. As Booth's eyes wandered over the paned glass windows, a flurry of movement from behind the curtains caught his eyes.

"Are you ready, Agent Booth?" Officer Briggs asked.

Booth turned to look at the man. "Uh, yeah." Booth began to walk forward, keeping his eye on the, now empty, window. As they approached the front door, Booth raised his hand and rapped his knuckles on the wooden surface.

A few seconds later, the door hesitantly creaked opened and a young man stepped out. He was wearing jeans, bare chested, and had a t-shirt thrown over his left shoulder.

"I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth of the FBI. Are you Dr. Riley Scott?" Booth asked as he pulled out his badge.

"Yes," Riley nodded, flustered. "Can I...uh, help you with something?"

"Dr. Scott, does Rosemary LeFay happen to be here?" Booth questioned.

Riley forced a smile at the FBI agent standing in front of him. "Call me Riley."

Booth waited for him to answer the question, but Riley remained quiet. Booth sighed, and prompted the young doctor to continue. "Rosemary LeFay. Is she here?"

Riley shook his head. "Nope, sorry. I haven't seen her yet today."

Officer Marks stepped forward. "Do you always answer the door in such a state of undress, boy?"

"I...uh...I..." Riley turned his head to look over his shoulder and into his home.

"You seem flustered," Officer Marks observed. "Do you have a girl in there with you? Is it Rosemary? Has she offered to give you a little something in exchange for an alibi?"

Riley snapped his head back to the officers standing in front of him. "What! No!"

"You're out of line, Officer Marks," Booth reprimanded. He turned his attention back to Riley. "Is it okay if I come inside to have a few words? Officer Marks and his partner can remain out here, if you want."

Once again, Riley turned to look over his shoulder. He took a deep breath before answering. "Sure." He opened the door widely, allowing Booth to enter his home. Once inside, Riley led him into the living room; the same room which had just previously been occupied by himself and Rosemary.

The minute Riley turned his back, Booth knew that he had been lying. Recent scratch marks on Riley's shoulder blades proved it. Riley had obviously just been, or was in the process of becoming, intimate with someone.

Booth took a deep breath. "Do you know where she is, Riley? If you do, you need to tell me. I know that Officer Marks seems to have some sort of personal vendetta against her, but I can promise that I'm not the same. But I do need to speak with her. I know she was just here. So tell me, do you know where she is now?"

Riley took a second to look over the man seated in front of him. "At this point, I can honestly say that no, I don't know where she is."

"Are you telling me the truth, Riley? 'Cause I gotta say, it's pretty important that I speak with her as soon as possible."

"Why can't you just leave her alone?" Riley asked, raising his voice slightly. "Hasn't she been through enough already? She's still struggling to deal with things, to come to terms with what happened to her. I'm not going to just stand by and let you, or anyone else, cause her more pain!"

"I don't want to cause her any more pain," Booth stated. "I want to help her."

"It doesn't matter whether or not it's your intent to cause her pain," Riley said. "It can still happen. It _will_ still happen if you continue to pursue her."

"What do you know about Ms. LeFay's past?" Booth questioned. "What has she told you?"

Riley shook his head. "Not much. She doesn't really remember anything beyond the past two years. And knowing the injuries she suffered, I don't really want her to remember. I may not have seen the police report, but I've seen and heard enough to know that what she went through wasn't good."

Booth nodded his head in agreement.

"What is your fascination with her, anyway?" Riley asked. "The police already have her statement. She has nothing more to offer the case."

Booth took a deep breath, contemplating what to tell the young doctor. "Two years ago, I was put in charge of a case. Me and my partner were put in charge of finding the bastard who kidnapped and tortured college women. We struggled for a long time to find enough evidence to track down the person responsible. In the meantime, one of our friends, a young Georgetown student who worked at my partner's lab, was kidnapped by that monster. She was supposed to be out of town. We didn't even realize she was missing."

"I'm so sorry, Agent Booth," Riley solemnly said.

"A few days later, we found some remains that were believed to belong to her. However, recent evidence has come to light that proves that she's still alive," Booth stated. "Those remains we found didn't belong to her. She's still out there somewhere."

"And you think that Rose might be your friend," Riley stated.

"I believe so," Booth said. "But I'm not positive. Which is why I'd like to speak with her."

"My advice, for whatever it's worth, just let her come to you on her own time," Riley replied. "She will. I know it. Her memories are starting to come back. And it's scaring her. You're right, she was here. Something happened, she panicked and then left. My guess is that she went to the hospital. It seems to be one of the few places that keeps her calm when she's stressed. Just don't pressure her."

oOo

While Riley went to answer his front door, Rosemary snuck out of the back of the house and ran. She didn't care where she went, only that it was as far from the police as she could get. She knew she wasn't guilty of anything, but she felt like a criminal on the lam. Probably because, as of late, she was constantly running from the police.

Before she knew it, she was walking through the doors of the hospital. She briefly nodded to a few of the on-duty nurses and made her way to the locker rooms, where she knew she could find showers and a change of clothes. The room was relatively empty, being that the shift changed occurred a few hours ago. Rosemary was glad for this, she wasn't sure she'd be able to handle interacting with anyone just yet. Not before she had a chance to cool down and wash the morning's stress away.

_'Stress. Yeah, that's one way of putting it,'_ Rosemary thought wryly to herself. She scoffed at herself for being weak. She shook her head and pulled open the door to her locker, sending a sheet of white paper flying to the floor. Rosemary squinted her eyes in confusion and bent over to pick up the offending piece of paper. She unfolded it, and a smile broke out on her face when she read what was written inside.

_Rose,_

_Smile. I love how it makes your eyes shine brightly. I miss seeing that. Trust me...things are all going to work out in the end. You'll see. I'm always right about these things. Call if you need anything._

_~Riley_

Rosemary chuckled to herself, thinking about how Riley must've snuck into the room to drop off the note during his last shift. She carefully placed the letter back inside her locker as she shuffled her hands around in search of a change of clothes. After finding her spare pair of jeans and a green square neck flutter sleeved tunic, she made her way over to the showers. She set her towel and clothes onto the bench in front of the shower and then turned the water on until a steady stream of hot water flowed from the shower head. As she stepped under the heated spray, she let her mind relax and her thoughts drift, a distant memory imbedding itself onto the forefront of her mind.

.

_She opened the door without knocking, and walked into Dr. Brennan's office, or at least that's what the name plate said. She didn't expect Dr. Brennan to be there today. As soon as she stepped inside, she saw Brennan sitting at her desk, focusing all of her attention on her computer screen. There was a video playing, the volume was turned up loud. She heard someone screaming while another person gave an evil laugh. She walked up behind Dr. Brennan, unnoticed, and looked at the screen._

_She saw a young woman tied to a pipe. The woman was covered in blood and her clothing was torn. A man was getting off of her, pulling up his pants and zipping them back up. The woman was crying, pleading with the man to let her go. The man grabbed a baseball bat and started hitting her with it, as the woman pleaded for the pain to stop._

_Without letting her eyes leave the screen, she spoke her thoughts aloud. "How can someone do this to another human being? That poor girl," she said with tears in her eyes._

_"Morgan, what are you doing here?" Dr. Brennan said, startled, as she shut off the video._

_"I..um...I..." Morgan was too choked up to say anything further. She broke out in sobs as she let the tears rain down her face._

_Dr. Brennan walked over to Morgan, placed an arm around her shoulders, and led her to the couch. "Did you...did you know this victim? Cam told me you go to Georgetown, just like the victim did."_

_Morgan shook her head. Clearing her throat she said, "No, not really. I mean, I met her a few times in class. We never really said much to each other though. Why would someone do that to her? What is it that drives a person to do such unspeakable things to another person?"_

_"To be honest, I'm not really sure. Anthropologically speaking though, violence has existed in virtually every society throughout history. But what causes someone to do such a thing, I don't really know. I have never really understood motives," Dr. Brennan started. "I have always viewed motives as irrelevant, so long as the evidence points to the person. What does it matter why they did it? I think Booth, or perhaps even Dr. Sweets, would be better able to explain it to you."_

_"Yeah, I understand. The psychological crap ain't really your thing," Morgan said, lightening the mood._

_Even Dr. Brennan laughed at this. "Exactly, psychology is a soft science. It's just guesswork. Though I do have to admit that some people are more gifted at guessing than others."_

_._

Rosemary shook her head, trying to clear the memory from her mind. She almost couldn't believe everything that had just so vividly played through her head. She remembered things prior to her abduction. It was almost a happy memory. She realized that she knew that woman from the park. It wasn't just a gut feeling anymore. She had proof: a memory, a name. Not only did she have a name for that woman, but she had a name for herself. Morgan.

She felt tears leak from her eyes and mix with the cooling stream of water. She wasn't sure she could handle everything she was remembering. She needed to reassure herself that she was no longer experiencing the pain of the past, but rather was living the wonderful life that she had built for herself in the past two years. She was finally happy, and she was determined not to let her memories, Morgan, ruin it for her.

"That's not me. I'm not Morgan. I'm Rosemary. Rosemary LeFay."

She gave herself over to her heavy emotions, unable to hold back her tears. A sob escaped, echoing off the walls. Hating herself for being so weak, she turned the water off and punched the tiled wall, feeling her knuckles crack upon impact. "Dammit, Rosemary. Get a grip!"

She stepped out of the shower and quickly dried herself off. She threw on her clothes, haphazardly dumped her towel into her locker, then made her way upstairs to have one of the doctors check out her swollen hand.

She walked into the emergency room, scanning the area for Dr. Auge. When she didn't see him, she asked the on-duty nurse about getting her hand looked at. The nurse smiled at her and told her that Dr. Auge would come get her next.

"Rosie, what did you do to yourself?" Dr. Auge said as he walked through the double doors.

"I got into a fight with a wall," Rosemary replied, unable to stop smiling at her own stupidity. "I guess the wall likes to fight back. Apparently it ain't as easy to punch a whole into a tiled wall as it is to do in a wall made of sheetrock."

Dr. Auge shook his head. "Well then, get your butt back here so I can make sure you didn't break anything."

Dr. Auge took her into one of the unused private rooms and examined her hand. "I don't believe it's broken. Just badly bruised. If it doesn't improve in a few days, we'll take some x-rays." He handed her an ice packet. "Keep it iced for a while, it'll reduce the swelling."

Rosemary smiled at the doctor. "Thanks, Don."

"No problem," Dr. Auge smiled. "Now stay here for a second, I'll go get you some medicine to deal with the pain."

Rosemary nodded and watched the doctor walked out of the room. He was gone for a few minutes before coming back in. He smiled as he handed her two pills and a paper cup of water. "Take these. They should kick in pretty quickly. And no more getting into altercations with inanimate objects."

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind."

He took a deep breath and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

Sensing his discomfort, she asked, "Is there something wrong?"

"You have a phone call," Dr. Auge said. "A member of the FBI, Agent Booth, is adamant that he speak with you immediately."

Rosemary's eyes widened. "Did you tell him I was here?" She wildly searched his eyes for the answer.

"I had to, Rosie," Dr. Auge said. "You know I can't interfere with the letter of the law. No matter how much I want to protect you from their inane accusations."

Rosemary took a deep breath. "Thank you. Can you ask that the call be transfered into here so that I could have some privacy?"

"Yeah, I'll go to reception now and get it transferred."

"Thanks, I appreciate it," Rosemary attempted to smile.

Dr. Auge nodded and then made his way back out through the door. Rosemary hopped off the hospital bed and began to pace the length of the room. After a few minutes, the shrill ring of the phone pierced the thick silence. Rosemary nervously ran her hand through her still damp hair and slowly made her way to the phone.

"H...Hello?" she stammered.

_"Is this Rosemary LeFay?" a very familiar voice asked_.

Rosemary nodded, too nervous to say anything.

_"Hello? Is anybody there?"_

"Uh, yes. I'm Rosemary," she answered. She heard a sigh of relief come through the earpiece.

_"Hi, my name is Agent Booth. Is it okay if I ask you a few questions."_

Rosemary remained silent. Booth. She remembered hearing that name in her memory.

_"Listen kiddo, I know you've had a pretty tough time lately," Booth said. "I'm not on a witch hunt here. I just want to talk."_

"Go ahead and talk, then," Rosemary replied, somewhat bitterly.

_"I understand you went through a difficult time two years ago. I hear your memory is a little shoddy. Do you think you could tell me exactly what you can remember?"_

Rosemary shook her head in disbelief. "You're not here to discuss my case. The police have given up, it's gone cold. You're here because of the body I found. And no offense, but I'd prefer not to relive my tortured past."

_"Does the name Morgan Johnson mean anything to you?" Booth asked, hopefully._

Rosemary once again went silent.

_"It does, doesn't it?" Booth asked. "Rosemary, are you Morgan Johnson?"_

Rosemary's eyes watered, and a sob escaped from deep within her throat. "You need to stop, right now!"

_"Morgan, if that's you, then you need to know that I'm not here to hurt you," Booth stated. "We just want to help. To bring you home to your family."_

"I already have a family," Rosemary snarled. "Right here, in Ashland. I don't need you. Or even want you, for that matter!"

_"You don't mean that," Booth said quietly._

"STOP!" Rosemary screamed. "I do mean it! Don't tell me what to think. You don't know me!"

_"I do know you, Morgan," Booth said. "I know this is confusing to you, but you have to trust me."_

"I don't have to do anything!" Rosemary cried. "Leave me alone! I gave the police my statement. You don't need anything else from me. I just want the damn law enforcement to leave me alone for once. Tell Officer Marks to quit accusing me of crimes I didn't commit!"

_"Morgan-"_

"Stop calling me that! My name is Rosemary. Rosemary LeFay. I'm not your precious Morgan! I'm Rosemary."

_"Fine. Rosemary, please listen to me-"_

"No, just leave me alone," Rosemary pleaded, her anger diffusing into sadness. "Just stop." Rosemary slammed the phone down onto the receiver. She slumped into a nearby chair as the waves of sadness, pain, and misery washed over her.

"My name is Rosemary," she muttered to herself. "Rosemary. Rosemary LeFay." She repeated her name aloud as she attempted to gain control over her emotions. When the tears had subsided enough not to draw attention to herself, she stormed out of the room. She ran through the unending maze of deserted hallways until she found a fire exit at the back of the hospital, which lead to an empty alleyway.

oOo

When Booth heard the click of the phone call ending, he slammed his phone shut. "Dammit!"

He pressed his hand to his forehead, hoping to ease some of the tension. "Dammit Seeley, you just screwed everything up!" He hit his steering wheel with the palm of his hand, then reached down to turn the ignition on.

The minute he separated from Officer Marks and his partner, Booth called the hospital hoping to speak with whom he believed to be Morgan. He was positive now that Morgan was living here under the name Rosemary LeFay. Only problem was that he just messed everything up by pushing her and scaring her away. He needed to drive over to the hospital to speak with Brennan about what happened. Maybe he'd even be able to run into Morgan, and things will work out okay. Shaking his head, he shifted the car into drive and pulled out onto the road.

When he reached the hospital, he immediately made his way down into the morgue, hoping to find his wife alone. Unfortunately, he had no such luck. As soon as he entered the room, he noticed that his wife was bent over the autopsy table, conferring over some findings with Vincent. Since Vincent didn't know yet, Booth knew he needed to wait to discuss things with Brennan about Morgan.

"What have we got here?" Booth asked, making his presence known.

"Male, late 50's, early 60's," Brennan began, flashing a smile up at her husband. She had hoped to be able to discuss her findings about Morgan as soon as she saw Booth, but unfortunately had to wait due to her intern's presence in the room. "Occupational markers indicate that he was either a farmer or a rancher. There doesn't appear to be any indicators of self-defense. Most of the bone damage was done postmortem, probably due to the fire. There is bruising to the hyoid bone."

"That's the bone in the neck, right?" Booth asked. "So he was strangled."

"That's a possibility, although the hyoid is more likely to be fractured in cases of strangulation," Brennan said. "But there doesn't appear to be any other damage done to the bones antemortem or perimortem. He didn't struggle at all."

"So, he was unconscious when someone strangled him," Booth said.

Brennan shook her head. "I highly doubt that, Booth. There are no indications that he was hit on the head. We tested what was left in the tissue and were unable to find any poisons or medications."

"Maybe they did it while he was sleeping."

"He would've woken up and fought back," Brennan said. "Booth, I am seriously reconsidering Officer Marks's ruling that this was murder. It is far more likely that this was suicide."

"But someone still had to bring the body down here and light it on fire, Bones."

"I can keep looking if you'd like, Booth," Brennan said. "But I'm positive that this man killed himself."

"But why would someone bring his body down here and burn it?"

"I suspect we'd find the answer to that once we've figured out the identity," Brennan answered. "I've sent everything I know to Angela. She'll let us know when she's found something."

"Dr. Brennan," Vincent said. "Is it okay if I...?" Vincent pointed his thumb over his shoulder towards the door.

"Certainly, Mr. Nigel-Murray," Brennan replied, relieved that she'd finally have a few minutes alone with Booth to discuss Morgan. "Take as long as you need."

Booth waited a few moments until Vincent walked out of the room, and the door closed solidly behind him. "How's he been doing?"

Brennan shook her head. "Not good. This is his fourth break since we've started."

Booth nodded his head. "Just give him time. It's his first case back."

"I know," Brennan stated. "Besides, Cam says the important thing is that he's here. And that he keeps coming back in to continue working."

"She's right, you know," Booth smiled. "I'm very proud of you for being so understanding."

"Yes, well," Brennan said, blushing slightly from his praise. "I need him to be focused on the remains. If this is what it takes, then I can only be patient with it."

Booth stared at his wife, falling even more in love with her. "You're an amazing woman."

The blush on Brennan's face darkened further. "Thank you. You're kind of amazing yourself."

Booth laughed. "Damn straight, I am."

Brennan walked over to the door and looked out into the hallway to ensure that Vincent was nowhere in sight. She took a deep breath, then turned back to face Booth. "I found something. About Morgan."

"You did?" Booth asked. "What is it?"

Brennan reached into her back pocket and pulled out the cell phone she had found earlier. "It was buzzing earlier. I found it hidden underneath the shelving unit in the corner."

"A phone?" Booth questioned, taking the cell phone.

Brennan nodded. "It...um...has pictures on it." Brennan walked over so that she was standing next to Booth. "Here, I'll show you." She grabbed the phone, expertly maneuvering through the menu until she found the photo album. From her ease of finding the photo album, it was clear that she had looked through the phone several times already. She selected a photo, and then showed Booth. "Take a look."

Booth looked down at the phone, squinting at the picture on display. He couldn't believe his eyes. He stared down at the young woman pictured, she had wavy strawberry blonde hair, warm hazel eyes, and even a few freckles shining through. It was Morgan. He knew Morgan was here, having spoken to her earlier, but this only confirmed it.

Brennan took the phone again, flipping to another photo. "I am now quite certain that this town's Rosemary LeFay is our Morgan Johnson."

Booth looked at the new photo illuminated on the screen. It was of the same young woman, Morgan. She was holding the sheriff's daughter, Ruthie Lee. Booth could hardly believe it. "It's her."

Brennan smiled at Booth. "It's her."

"Does Vincent know yet?"

Brennan shook her head.

"Good. Don't tell him. Not yet, anyways."

"Why?" Brennan inquired.

"Bones, it's been two years. She has no memories of us, of Vincent," Booth explained. "Two years is a long time for someone her age to be alone, and...um..."

"She's moved on," Brennan finished. "She had no choice but to move on with her life. She's in a relationship, you know."

Booth nodded. "I figured. I spoke with a man named Riley Scott. He's a doctor here. I noticed that he's very protective of her."

Brennan looked down shyly before admitting, "I looked through her text messages."

"Oh?" Booth said.

"From what I gather, it's a new relationship. But she seems to really like that man, Riley," Brennan stated.

"Poor Vincent," Booth said.

Brennan nodded. "I'd like to speak with her. I know she doesn't remember us, but maybe seeing us, or even hearing our voices, will trigger her memories."

"Maybe," Booth said, unsure. "But I already talked to her on the phone."

"Oh?" Brennan raised her eyebrow. "And what happened?"

"She completely freaked out on me," Booth admitted. "It's my fault, really. I pushed her too hard. She doesn't remember us. And, if she does, she's rejecting those memories."

"She's been through a lot," Brennan reasoned. "It's going to take time."

Booth shook his head. "I pushed her. She said she doesn't want anything to do with us. She said that she wasn't our 'precious Morgan'. She kept saying that she's Rosemary LeFay."

"So, we won't call her Morgan, at least not until she's ready," Brennan stated. "Booth, she spent the past two years under this new identity. And all of a sudden, things are rapidly changing. She's like me, she doesn't know how to deal with it. She just needs time."

"What if she never deals with it?" Booth asked.

Brennan sighed. "Then, we let her live her life here, no matter how much we dislike the thought. We can't force anything, Booth. All we can do is give her enough information to protect her and let her make her own decisions."

oOo

Vincent left the morgue, disappointed in himself yet again for needing to escape. He couldn't handle looking at human remains. All he could see was Morgan's face, her body laid out on the autopsy table. Sure, he knew there was still a chance that she was alive. That's what the team back in DC were working on: finding out where Morgan is. But it was too painful. And he hated himself for not being able to work anymore. He loved being an anthropologist. He loved working for Dr. Brennan. It was what he always wanted to do. But now he feared that Dr. Brennan would become irritated with his lack of focus and inability to work with recent human remains. She would take away his internship. And he didn't want to lose that too. He didn't want to leave. He loved working there, at the Jeffersonian.

Vincent shook his head and made his way outside to gain some fresh air. This was his fourth break today. Each time, he anxiously walked a complete circle around the exterior of the hospital while reciting random facts to himself before heading back inside. The fresh air calmed him. The sunshine drove away his sadness.

As Vincent rounded his way to the back of the hospital, he heard someone sniffling. Every once in a while, a muffled sob would escape. Vincent looked around quickly, but didn't see anything. After a few moments, he resumed walking, chalking the incident up to his imagination. But after a few steps, he heard it again, louder this time.

"Hello?" Vincent asked, his soft British voice echoed off the walls.

No answer.

"Is anybody there? Do you require assistance?"

Again, no answer.

Vincent heard more muffled sobs. He walked forward slowly, stopping when he spotted a small, darkened alleyway. It appeared that the sounds of the hysterical sobbing originated from somewhere within the alley. He decided to venture inside, scanning his eyes over his new surroundings until they landed upon the source of the cries. A young woman was sitting on the ground with her knees pulled up to her chest and her head cradled against her forearms, her long wavy strawberry blonde hair shielding her face from the world.

Like a magnet, Vincent was pulled towards the woman. There was just something about her, something that made him feel like he needed to be there for her; something that told him that she needed him to be there for her. He was blinded to everything else except for making sure that she was okay. And it was that blindness that caused him to trip over a wooden crate that was laying in his path.

"Go away," Rosemary ordered without lifting up her head to see who had joined her. Her voice was thick and raspy from crying.

Vincent stopped in his tracks. "I...uh...I heard you crying."

"So?" Rosemary sobbed. "Go away."

"I just wanted to make sure you were alright," Vincent explained. He took a few steps closer, attempting to get a better view. "Are you?"

"Am I what? Am I _okay_?" Rosemary cried out, keeping her face from the man's view. "Of course I'm not okay! The police here think I'm the one responsible for the death of that person. I didn't do anything! But they won't believe me."

"I believe you," Vincent whispered. He took the final few steps and crouched down beside the crying woman. He placed his hand on her knee in an attempt to provide some comfort.

"You don't even know me," Rosemary scoffed. She let out another, slightly quieter, sob before mumbling to herself. "I don't even know me..."

"I'm not sure what you mean by that," Vincent admitted, "but you know _you_ didn't kill that man. And that's enough for me."

Rosemary nodded her head and then dove into the comfort of his arms. She didn't know this man, this stranger who offered her kindness in her time of need, but she felt safe. It was something she hadn't felt in a long time. And she found that not only did she need that, but she craved it.

After what felt like an eternity, but was really only a matter of minutes, her cries subsided into soft whimpers.

"Are you doing better?" Vincent asked, rubbing her back.

Rosemary nodded and then clung tighter to him. Her arms wrapped further around his body and she nestled her head into his neck. She took a deep breath and then whispered to him. "Thank you...um...I don't even know your name."

"Well, Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth refer to me as Mr. Nigel-Murray," he answered. "But you can call me Vincent."

Rosemary stiffened in his arms. Everything she knew, all the little details of her past that has been on her mind, was starting to make sense now. The Jeffersonian. Her memory of Dr. Brennan. Agent Booth. His name, the name that has been haunting her nightmares. She was frozen in panic, unsure of how to escape.

_'Does he know who I am?'_ she thought to herself. _'No he couldn't possibly know. He would've hurt me by now. Kidnapped me. Taken me someplace horrible to do unspeakable things to me.'_

"What's your name?" Vincent asked her.

His voice brought her out of her panic-induced catatonia. "I need to go."

She wrenched herself out of his arms and jumped up off the ground. As soon as her feet hit the pavement, she started running away.

Vincent didn't know what he did wrong. Clearly something had happened, but he never even saw her face or any indication that would inform him of what he did wrong. So he got up and ran after her. When he caught up to her, he reached out and grabbed her arm. "What happened? What's wrong?"

She turned around to face him for the first time as she yanked her arm from his grasp. "Don't touch me, you _rat bastard_!"

Vincent studied her face and looked into the hazel eyes he knew so well. She was skinnier, her face didn't light up as much as it once did. But he knew it was her. He was shocked, wondering why she didn't seem to recognize him. He swallowed the lump in his throat and uttered the word he has been unable to say for two years. "M...Morgan?"

**AN: Dun...dun...dun!**

**SPOILER IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN _HOLE IN THE HEART_**

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**RIP VINCENT NIGEL-MURRAY. As Brennan so eloquently put it, you were my favorite...**


	15. Why Are You Calling Me Rosemary?

**AN: So, I wrote most of this instead of studying for my film history exam. Whoops! I guess ya never know when inspiration is gonna strike, especially at the expense of my education. Haha! Enjoy! 14 pages to make up for yet another 2 week absence...**

CHAPTER 15:

_She turned around to face him for the first time as she yanked her arm from his grasp. "Don't touch me, you rat bastard!"_

_Vincent studied her face and looked into the hazel eyes he knew so well. She was skinnier, her face didn't light up as much as it once did. But he knew it was her. He was shocked, wondering why she didn't seem to recognize him. He swallowed the lump in his throat and uttered the word he has been unable to say for two years. "M...Morgan?"_

Vincent watched as his one-time love looked at him with an expression of pure panic. He helplessly stood still as she backed away from him shaking her head.

"Stay away from me," she warned in a gravely low tone. "I don't want you here. Leave me alone. Just...just go away."

Vincent wanted nothing more than to go to her, to embrace her until her panic subsided and she was filled with nothing but joy and happiness. He wanted to kiss away the tears that were gently rolling down the delicate skin of her cheeks. He took a step forward, hoping she'd be somewhat receptive to him.

"Stop!" she yelled. "Don't come any closer."

Vincent stopped in his tracks. "Morgan, what did I _do_? Are...are you okay? _Please_ tell me that you're okay."

She stiffened at the sound of her name, her real name. "I'll be okay as soon as I'm away from you."

"Please don't leave," Vincent pleaded. "I know it's been two years, but I don't want you to leave. I still love you. I love you, Morgan. I do."

She shook her head wildly as her eyes widened in disbelief. "You really are crazy, aren't you? I don't love you. I never did!"

Vincent took a defeated step back. "Wh..what?"

"All you did was hurt me. You tortured me," she said, exasperated. "Why would I love you?"

"I...I never hurt you," Vincent stated, confused. "I would never do such a thing. I love you."

"Therein lies your delusion," she replied. "I'm leaving now. Don't follow me. This hospital is crawling with law enforcement. All I need to do is scream and they'll come running. I don't think you'd want that."

Vincent watched as his love edged her way over to the exit of the alleyway. She walked with caution, never taking her eyes off of him. She looked like she was ready to run at the first sign of movement from him. So he stood still. He hopelessly watched as she rounded the corner out of his sight.

oOo

"You seriously want to just leave her here?" Booth asked.

Brennan shook her head. "Of course not."

"That's what you just said," Booth countered.

"No, I said that if she_ chooses_ to stay, there's nothing we can do," Brennan stated. "I don't want her to stay, but she's an adult. She can make her own decisions."

"If she doesn't come with us," Booth replied, "I..._we_ won't be able to protect her once Tristian gets out of jail. And he's going to get out. Unless she can remember everything and testify against him. And if, when, he gets out, he'll go after her again."

"You don't know that," Brennan argued.

"He knows where he left her," Booth stated. "He'll want to finish what he started. And we need to stop that before it happens."

"What do you want to do about it?" Brennan inquired. "Kidnap her? Make her live through that horror again? Because I'm sure _that'll_ help us gain her trust. I understand your need to protect her, but we can only do so much without her permission."

Booth slumped into the desk chair, defeated. "I know. You're right."

"Like always," Brennan joked, smiling at her husband in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"Like always," Booth agreed, a smile slowly spreading across his face. "But I couldn't protect her the first time-"

"And you feel like you need to do a better job this time around," Brennan finished. "I understand. But it's not your fault. You know that, right?"

Booth reached out his hand and motioned for Brennan to walk over to him. He wrapped his arm around her waist and buried his face into her stomach, breathing in her comforting scent. She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close.

A few minutes later, they were interrupted from their embrace by the return of Brennan's intern. The door to the morgue slowly creaked open, and a shell-shocked Vincent stumbled through the entryway.

Brennan, who normally had difficulty reading emotions, immediately noticed that something had upset the man. "Mr. Nigel-Murray? Is everything okay?"

Vincent shook his head slowly, staring blankly at the wall. "She didn't know me."

Brennan stepped away from Booth, whom was still seated on the chair, and they exchanged a worried glance.

"Vincent, what happened?" Booth asked.

"It was her. I know it was. But...but she didn't know me. I _frightened_ her."

Brennan took a few steps closer to her intern. "Who? Who are you talking about?"

"M...Morgan. She's here. At this hospital."

Brennan nodded her head and then looked over her shoulder, locking eyes with her husband.

"Did you know?" Vincent asked, suddenly. He focused his eyes onto his mentor as he anxiously awaited for her to answer him.

Brennan slowly returned her gaze to her intern. She didn't need to answer his question. The answer was plainly written in her guilt-ridden eyes.

"You _knew_. You knew she was here and yet you didn't tell me?" Vincent dropped down onto a stool that was placed near the wall. He let his head fall back to rest against the brick surface. "That's why you brought me here, isn't it? Not because of the case, but so I'd be around if we happened upon her."

Brennan nodded her head slightly. "I'm sorry. I should have told you. But I really did want to train you in field work. I did. However, I should have told you right from the beginning what I had suspected."

After a few silent moments, Vincent broke eye contact with Brennan. "I would like to return to DC, please."

Brennan's mouth dropped open at his unexpected request. "What? Why, Vincent?"

"Because she doesn't _remember_ me!" Vincent stated, tension straining his voice.

"What happened when you ran into her?" Booth asked, standing up and walking closer to the disheartened intern.

"I found her crying in the alley," Vincent explained. "I didn't know it was her, but I tried to help. Her face was hidden behind her hair."

Brennan once again locked eyes with Booth.

"I didn't expect her to be here," Vincent whispered.

"I know you didn't, Vincent. We should have told you," Booth apologized.

Vincent shook his head. "I offered to comfort her. We hugged, but I still didn't see her face. I told her my name and asked for hers. That's when she got up and ran. I was confused, you know. _Why did she run? What did I do to her?_ So I got up and chased after her. When I caught up to her, I grabbed her arm. And when she turned to pull her arm away, that's when I saw her face. It was _her._ But she yelled at me not to touch her. She called me a _rat bastard_."

Brennan shook her head. "She didn't mean it. She's just confused."

"She called me delusional," Vincent said. "Delusional because I told her that I loved her. She said I tortured her, that she never loved me."

Brennan's eyes began to water. "Vincent-"

"Her memories are a little jumbled up," Booth said. "That's all. She's just...she wasn't ready to run into you. That's why we didn't tell you she was here. She doesn't remember any of us."

"Dr. Brennan, is it alright if I fly home?" Vincent asked, again. "I don't wish to cause her any more pain. You didn't see the fear in her eyes when she looked at me. My presence here isn't doing her any good."

Brennan looked over to Booth. He shook his head and looked to the ground. Brennan sighed, then took another step towards Vincent. "How about we give it another day? Booth can take you back to the motel, if you want. You can call home, call Dr. Sweets. Anything. But please, just give it one more day before you make any rash decisions."

Vincent nodded his head. "I'll spend the next 24 hours thinking about it. But my mind isn't going to change."

"You don't know that," Booth said. Booth looked over to the clock on the wall. It was after 4PM. "How about we all leave for the night? We can begin again tomorrow with a fresh start."

Brennan scrunched up her face. She didn't like that idea. "I have more work to do here tonight, Booth. How about the two of you leave. You can go get some dinner. We'll meet up in a few hours when I'm done."

"Bones-"

Brennan walked over to the desk and picked up Booth's keys. She handed them to him and began pushing him towards the door. "No arguments, go get some food."

Booth stopped walking. He handed the keys to Vincent. "Here, why don't you head on up to my car. I'll be up in a minute."

Vincent nodded and reluctantly took the proffered keys.

Booth waited until Vincent was out of the room before turning to Brennan. "What was that about?"

"I actually do need to work on this case," Brennan said. "Then I'll be able to focus on Morgan. Then I'd really like to get home to our daughter. And I tend to work better without your distractions. Plus, I'm pretty sure Vincent needs some male bonding time."

"But I barely know the guy," Booth said. "He's your squint."

"We are all of us, your squints," Brennan claimed. "Take this opportunity to get to know him. He needs someone to talk to. Please? Just make sure he doesn't go anywhere near alcohol tonight."

Booth took one look into Brennan's pleading blue eyes and knew he couldn't say no. "Fine. I'll see what I can do."

Brennan leaned up to place a kiss on his lips. "I appreciate that." She walked Booth over to the morgue doors. "I should only be here a few more hours. I'll call you when I'm done so you can pick me up."

"Sounds like a plan," Booth said.

"That's because it is a plan," Brennan said, stating the obvious. She shook her head and pushed Booth out the door.

oOo

Somehow, Rosemary found herself sitting on a bench in the park overlooking the pond, lost in thought. The past week had been one hell of a roller coaster for her emotionally. First, she found human remains while at work. Then, she found herself being harassed by the local police department, who were hoping to throw her in jail. It was a good thing that the county sheriff was on her side. At least she had someone to stand up for her.

But to top everything else off, her memories were starting to come back. Normally, one would think of this as a good thing. And maybe it was. But the pain and confusion that resulted from these memories only seemed to make things worse.

That man in the alley had brought her comfort. She was weak, falling off of an emotional cliff, and he was there to catch her. He hugged her while telling her that things were going to be okay. He said that he believed in her innocence. He came here with Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan. She knew him in the past, and his use of her given name proved it.

But he bared the name of the man who tortured her and brought her endless amounts of pain. Of this, she was positive. She may not have any memories of him actually hurting her, but she did remember being carried out to a car by her kidnapper. She had called him Vincent.

But before she realized who he was, she felt safe in his arms. She couldn't figure out why. If he was truly the person who brought her pain, why did she feel so comfortable in his arms? Why did she feel the pang of guilt when she looked him in the eye and claimed she didn't love him? Stockholm syndrome? That's a possibility. But why hadn't he chased after her to bring her more harm? Why did he let her get away? Why did Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan bring him here? Did they trust him? Why would they trust that man?

She couldn't find the answers to the hundreds of questions rattling through her mind. She hated herself for not being able to remember everything about her past. If she could just remember something, she wouldn't feel so confused.

She racked her brain, carefully reviewing all of the memories that she did have. She was kidnapped, tortured, and left for dead. But she knew all of that without needing the memories. She had a relationship with the Jeffersonian Institute. Well, that memory didn't help her much considering she couldn't remember anybody who worked there, except for Dr. Brennan. For whatever reason, she remembered Dr. Brennan.

Maybe that was the key. Dr. Brennan. Maybe Dr. Brennan could provide her with answers. In her memory, Dr. Brennan had been kind to her and treated her with respect.

_'If only I could remember more,'_ Rosemary thought to herself.

She concentrated on the one memory she had of Dr. Brennan. They were in her office, talking about her latest case and psychology. But that wasn't the only conversation they shared in Dr. Brennan's office. She remembered feeling at home there. They engaged in many conversations in that office. Another one of those conversations was starting to bubble up to the surface of her mind. The memory was hazy. There were still pieces missing, but it was there.

**.**

_"Morgan...hey...sweetie," Dr. Brennan said, wrapping her arms around Morgan. "You need to talk to me. I understand that you don't want to, but you need to. And we don't have to discuss what Booth said. All I need to know is that you're alright."_

_Morgan cried for a few more minutes, before regaining her composure enough to form a complete sentence. She freed herself from Dr. Brennan's arms and said, "Everything I'm about to tell you doesn't leave this room. You don't tell Booth. You don't tell Cam. Sweets. Angela. You tell no one."_

_Dr. Brennan nodded her head in understanding. And listened intently as Morgan relayed her story._

_Dr. Brennan looked at Morgan with tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "Morgan, nobody should have to go through what you did. Nobody." She took Morgan into her arms once again, hugging her. "So, what happened that put you in foster care? I saw the names written in your book. Did somebody find out and call the authorities?"_

_Morgan shook her head and continued to tell Dr. Brennan her story._

_"I can't even imagine what you have been through," Dr. Brennan stated. "It has become common knowledge that I spent time in the foster system as well. It's not an easy thing to cope with. You're thrown into a brand new environment. Everything is different, not how you want them to be. They never are."_

_Morgan nodded in understanding, so Dr. Brennan continued._

_"In one of my foster homes, I broke a plate and my foster father locked me into the trunk of a car for a few days."_

_Morgan looked up at Dr. Brennan. "I'm sorry that happened to you. Knowing you, you probably put up a huge fight, huh?"_

_"No, not really," Dr. Brennan admitted. "I was just a child. I was weak, scared. I didn't really know any better. And in a few of my foster homes, I was sexually assaulted as well as physically abused."_

_"You didn't fight back?" Morgan questioned, surprised that such a strong woman wouldn't defend herself._

_Dr. Brennan shook her head. "I tried, but I wasn't strong enough. I didn't know how to fight. I wasn't trained yet. And my struggles only enticed them further."_

_"So, when you got out of the foster system, you took self-defense and karate lessons to make sure that no one could ever hurt you like that again," Morgan surmised._

_Dr. Brennan nodded her head in agreement. "We all do things to cope, in our own way. I chose to take control of my life. To become trained in martial arts and build up walls to keep everyone at a distance."_

_"And I chose art," Morgan stated._

_"Yes," Dr. Brennan agreed. "You chose to embrace your emotions, rather than reject them. You are a much stronger person than I am."_

_"I don't know about that, Dr. Brennan," Morgan said. "I feel very weak. And vulnerable."_

_"Nope," Dr. Brennan said, a smile starting to form at the corner of her lips. "You're strong. To live life, never letting anybody know about your past, and not letting it affect your daily life. Very strong indeed."_

_Morgan nodded. "Thanks, Dr. Brennan. I needed this. To talk. To have someone tell me that I handled everything okay, that I'm gonna be okay."_

**.**

Rosemary sat in stunned silence at this new memory. Foster care? She shared that tragic situation with Dr. Brennan. She felt comfortable enough with the woman to talk about a painful time in her past. Dr. Brennan had called her strong. And Rosemary didn't want to disappoint her. She would prove to Dr. Brennan just how strong she was.

oOo

Brennan connected her computer up to the video conference link with the Jeffersonian. A few seconds later, her best friend's face appeared on the screen.

_"Brennan!" Angela squealed. "How are you and Studly doing out there?"_

Brennan smiled. "We're quite fine, Ange. How is Lily doing?"

_Angela sighed. "She misses you like crazy. But we've been keeping her busy. Hodgins has been keeping an eye on her. I believe he's teaching her to race beetles."_

"She's only 7 months old, Ange," Brennan said. "I highly doubt she'd be able to grasp the concept of racing beetles."

_"I know, Bren. But she seems to love watching all of those disgusting little bugs that Hodgins has," Angela explained. Angela took a deep breath. "Max came by today."_

"He did, huh?" Brennan asked. "How much time did he spend with Lily?"

_"A good hour or so," Angela replied. "He's upset that you didn't ask him to watch her while you and Booth are gone."_

"Can he really blame me?" Brennan asked. Brennan was still very apprehensive about letting her father spend much time with Lily. She didn't want to take the risk of allowing her daughter to become attached to a man who has a track record of abandoning those who love him.

_"Bren, he's her grandfather," Angela said. "He should have the opportunity to spend some quality time with her."_

"I know, Ange," Brennan agreed. "How are Mr. Bray and Dr. Edison doing at the lab?"

_"Good, good. Cam's keeping a tight leash on them," Angela laughed. "Wendell is making progress on Morgan's case. And Dr. Edison is eagerly awaiting instructions from you for the current case."_

"Good," Brennan said, then she began to tell Angela about her findings for the morgue victim. Their conversation took focus on details of the current case.

_"Alright, no problem," Angela smiled. "I'll let Cam know right after..."_

The soft creaking of the morgue door startled Brennan from their conversation. Brennan turned her head to look towards the source of that noise, and found Morgan standing in the dimly lit doorway silently watching her with worried eyes.

_"Bren? Bren, is everything okay?" Angela asked._

Brennan brought her attention back to the computer screen. "Yes, Ange. Everything is fine. I just...something came up." Brennan turned her head back towards the door to ensure that Morgan was still standing there, which she was.

_"You would tell me if something is wrong, right?" Angela's concern was growing. "There isn't someone standing in the room with you pointing a gun at your head, is there?"_

Brennan smiled, noticing that Morgan was smiling at that comment as well. "No, Ange. Everything is fine. Thanks for the information on possible identities. Run the scenarios I gave you through the Angelator. Then have Dr. Edison or Mr. Bray compare it to the damage on the bones. Call me later with your findings."

_"Will do, Bren," Angela said. "Everything is okay, right?"_

"Yes," Brennan replied. She looked back over at Morgan. "I have to go now, Ange."

Brennan reached over to the computer and disconnected the video conference. When she was sure that she was no longer connected with Angela, she closed her laptop and once again turned towards the door.

"Hello, Rosemary," Brennan said, remembering that she didn't really remember her life as Morgan. "What can I do for you?"

"Rosemary?" she questioned.

"Yes," Brennan answered, standing up from her chair and slowly walking towards the autopsy table. She bent over the table to take a closer look at the victim's hyoid bone, picking up her pen to write down her new observations. "That is how you prefer to be addressed now, isn't it?"

"Um...yeah, I guess. It's all I really know."

"So I've heard," Brennan replied, as she continued to focus on the remains.

Rosemary stood awkwardly in the doorway. "Is it okay if I come in?"

"Yes," Brennan answered.

Rosemary nodded and then ventured further into the room. She walked until she was standing on the opposite side of the autopsy table as Brennan. "Did ya figure out cause of death yet?"

Brennan nodded. "I'm fairly certain that I have. Although I have to wait until my team back in DC can confirm my findings."

"Oh," Rosemary said, awkwardly. She stood there staring at Brennan as she examined the victim's remains.

Feeling a pair of eyes on her, Brennan stood up. "Is everything okay, Rosemary?"

Rosemary nodded her head. "Fine."

Brennan looked at her, trying to read the girl's emotions. Brennan wasn't quite sure what to do, she wished that she had Booth's knack for reading people. Brennan wasn't sure why Morgan had decided to seek her out, of all people. "I found your cell phone, by the way." Brennan pointed over to her bag, which was sitting on the desk. "It's all charged. Go ahead and take it if you'd like."

Rosemary walked over to the desk and pulled her phone out of the bag. "Um...thank you."

Brennan smiled. "You're quite welcome."

Rosemary shoved her cell phone into the back pocket of her jeans and then placed her hands on her hips. "I...why...how come you're acting like this?"

"Like what?" Brennan inquired. She set her pen and notepad onto the exam table and gave her full attention to Rosemary.

"Like that," Rosemary pointed at Brennan. "Shouldn't you be acting differently? You're confusing me."

"How so?"

"Well, for starters, why are you calling me Rosemary?"

"It's your name," Brennan stated.

"No, it isn't," Rosemary said. "I mean, it is. But _you_ know it isn't my name."

"It's not the name I know you as," Brennan began to explain, "but it's the name, the identity, you've chosen for yourself. I'm just trying to respect that decision."

"Why?" Rosemary asked. "Why would you do that?"

Brennan took a step closer to Morgan. "You may not remember this, but you're my friend and I care about you. I'm merely trying to support your decisions."

Rosemary cocked her eyebrow, skeptical of what Dr. Brennan was saying. "You're really not gonna push me?"

"I wouldn't dream of it," Brennan said. She walked closer and grabbed Morgan's hand, pulling her towards a few chairs. "Here, sit down."

Rosemary did as she was asked, curious as to what game Dr. Brennan was playing.

"Sweetheart, what do you remember? Maybe if you talk about it, you'll feel better and less confused. Supposedly, it's therapeutic."

"You hate psychology," Rosemary replied automatically.

Brennan smiled at this remark. "Very true. And if you can remember that small, insignificant detail, then I'm positive that, with time, you'll figure everything else out."

Rosemary nodded, feeling very comforted by Dr. Brennan's presence. "I remember being Morgan. I would go into your office, and we'd talk. I remember you mentioning Agent Booth, but I don't actually remember knowing him." Rosemary looked down at the floor. "I remember being tortured."

Brennan nodded her head sadly, struggling to hold back her tears. "Anything else?"

Rosemary shook her head, sadly. "I remember the pain. The sadness. The feeling of hopelessness."

Brennan felt a tear slowing leak down her cheek. She hooked her arm around Morgan's shoulder and pulled her into an embrace. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. It's all my fault."

Rosemary shook her head and buried her face deeper into Brennan's shoulder, clutching to her as if her life depended upon it. "No, it's not."

"We didn't even realize you were missing," Brennan argued. "You suffered because we were too oblivious to the world around us. We should've been able to see that something wasn't right."

"You did everything you could," Rosemary stated. She let out a sob before continuing. "He made me watch the FBI press conference. You did everything you could, I know you did."

The two remained quietly embraced for a few more minutes, each lost in their own memories. When they pulled back from each other, Brennan furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

"What's wrong, Dr. Brennan?"

"It's just...my intern was quite distraught after seeing you. He said you called him a rat bastard and ran away from him. Why did you react so strongly, so negatively, when you ran into Vincent?"

"That man is your intern?" Rosemary questioned, confused.

"Yes, he is," Brennan confirmed. "He's been with the Jeffersonian for 3 years while working on his doctorate degree."

Rosemary bolted up from her chair and put as much space between herself and Dr. Brennan as the room would allow. "Why would you hire that sick, sadistic, perverted psychopath?"

"Sweetheart, I'm confused as to what you're implying," Brennan stated. "Do you remember Vincent?"

"Of course I remember him!" Rosemary yelled. "He's the one who hurt me! How can you trust him?"

"What? Sweetheart, no," Brennan countered. "He didn't hurt you. He wouldn't do that. He loves you."

"No. No, I remember. He carried me out to his car. I was in so much pain," Rosemary squeaked, her ragged breathing making it difficult to speak. "He hurt me so much, twisted my mind so much that I deliriously believed I loved him."

"Oh sweetheart," Brennan said, stepping towards Rosemary. "I don't know what's going on in that brain of yours, but Vincent would never do that to you."

"No, he did!" Rosemary protested, losing confidence.

"He didn't. We caught the man who hurt you. He's in jail," Brennan replied. "Tristian Howards is in jail."

"No. No! I don't know who that is," Rosemary argued, her resolve quickly fading. "I know who hurt me. I remember saying his name. I remember calling him Vincent."

"Sweetheart, you were held captive and tortured for days," Brennan reasoned. "You were confused. You still are confused."

"_I_ was the one who was tortured," Rosemary growled. "I would think that I'd know who did that to me."

A quick series of images flashed through Rosemary's mind. A man, not Vincent, chaining her to a pipe. That same man, standing in front of a classroom. A different man, Vincent, sitting across from her in a romantic restaurant.

"Tristian Howards was my TA," Rosemary whispered. "He...he...why would he do that to me?" Rosemary locked her eyes onto Brennan's.

Brennan quickly made her way over to where Morgan was standing. She had seen Morgan's eyes gloss over and confusion cross her face as she was struck with a memory. Without hesitation, Brennan pulled the girl into her arms. "Shh...it's okay. Oh, sweetheart. I'm so sorry."

Rosemary pulled herself from Dr. Brennan's arms. "I...I need to get out of here." Her round, hazel eyes looked into Brennan's blue eyes and pleaded for understanding.

Brennan nodded her head, knowing what it felt like to need an escape. She knew how it felt to desperately want to run away from emotional situations. "When you're done running, come find me. Just...just promise me that you'll come back."

Rosemary stood up straighter, slightly caught off-guard. "You're not gonna try to stop me?"

"I want to," Brennan admitted. "But you need space. I understand that. Believe me, I do. And I'll be waiting for you when you're ready."

Rosemary nodded. "Thank you, Dr. Brennan."

Brennan smiled and nodded her head, watching Rosemary turn on her heels and exit the room. Brennan breathed out a sigh of relief. She walked over to her laptop, flipped it open, and then logged onto the video conferencing software. She found the name of the person she need to speak with, and waited for them to connect.

**AN: Congratulations to any of the readers who have just graduated! Can you believe it? It's feels so unreal. And to those of you who are still in school: Don't give up. Time goes by faster than you think.**


	16. Advice From A Colleague

**AN: I know. _I know_. I promised some people that this would be posted a couple days ago. I'm sorry :(**

**Now onto the next chapter!**

Chapter 16:

_Brennan smiled and nodded her head, watching Rosemary turn on her heels and exit the room. Brennan breathed out a sigh of relief. She walked over to her laptop, flipped it open, and then logged onto the video conferencing software. She found the name of the person she need to speak with, and waited for them to connect._

"Dr. Brennan," a surprised voice echoed through the computer's speakers. "Is there something I can help you with?"

Brennan looked at the computer screen, debating whether or not she was doing the right thing by speaking with her coworker. "We found her, Cam."

The shock on Cam's face remained as she took a deep breath and digested this information. "Wow, that was fast."

Brennan nodded her head in agreement. "I...I need your help."

"Sure thing," Cam said enthusiastically. "What can I do?"

"I would like some advice," Brennan sighed. "She came to me-"

"Wait, she came to _you_?" Cam questioned.

Brennan smiled. "Yes. It was...well, Angela would call it slightly awkward. She started questioning me about the progress of the case."

"Okay, go on," Cam prompted.

"I told her that I was waiting for results to come through from the Jeffersonian," Brennan continued. "She was so sad, Cam. And confused."

"So, did she tell you what happened?" Cam inquired.

Brennan nodded her head. "She barely remembers anything. She's not quite sure she can trust what memories she does have."

Cam nodded her head and came to a conclusion about what she thought Brennan needed advice on. "And you're doubting yourself about whether or not it was a good thing to have her arrested. Listen it-"

Brennan's eyes widened in surprise. "Arrested? No, I didn't have her arrested."

"Wait, you let her go?" Cam asked, perplexed by her employee's behavior.

"She ran out," Brennan replied. "Why...why would you think I would have her arrested?"

"Well, if she's the murderer-"

"She's not a murderer, Cam," Brennan protested. She couldn't believe that Cam was yet another person who could believe that Morgan was capable of murder. "You of all people should know that."

"What? I'm confused. If she's not the murderer, then who are you talking about?"

Brennan rolled her eyes. "Morgan."

"Morgan? You...you found Morgan?" Cam gasped. "Alive?"

Brennan nodded her head in confirmation. "Yes, but as I said, she is lacking some very important memories." Brennan waited for Cam to say something, but she remained quiet, in shock, so Brennan prompted her. "Cam?"

"Is she...is she alright?"

"Yes, she appears to be fine," Brennan replied. "She was successfully able to build herself a decent life here. She didn't know her name, so she changed it to Rosemary. She works at this hospital. She has a boyfriend. I haven't met him, however Booth says that he's a nice guy."

"I...and she doesn't remember her past?" Cam clarified.

Brennan shook her head. "She says that she's had a few flashes here and there, but nothing substantial." Brennan took a deep breath. "Booth spoke to her over the phone, and she lashed out at him. Then, Vincent ran into her in the alley behind the hospital. Morgan became quite agitated, as she falsely believed Vincent to be her kidnapper."

"Oh God," Cam gasped. "Poor guy."

"It was difficult for him," Brennan confessed. "He's asked to go back to DC."

"I don't blame him," Cam sighed.

"Her memories are starting to return," Brennan explained, "but it appears as though she is misinterpreting some of them. She said that the only person she actually remembers is me. She can vaguely remember other people, but her memories of them are virtually non-existent."

"But you said she came to you?"

Brennan nodded her head. "Yes. A few minutes ago, in fact. To make her feel more comfortable, more willing to trust me, I called her by her new name rather than by Morgan. It appeared to have worked. She displayed a level of trust I had not expected to receive from her."

"Good. That's good."

Brennan smiled. "Although I lack the social skills that seem to be inherent to everyone else, she allowed me to provide her with comfort."

"That's really good, Dr. Brennan," Cam smiled with tears in her eyes. "You can get through to her. Bring her home."

"I'm trying, but she's an adult, Cam. She can make her own decisions," Brennan replied.

Cam nodded her head. "I know."

"Why did she come to _me_, Cam?" Brennan questioned. "Of all people, why me? I'm not good with this sort of thing. What if I say or do the wrong thing?"

"You won't, Dr. Brennan," Cam smiled. "She used to look up to you. You have a lot in common. If anyone can get through to her, it's you."

Brennan sighed. "I feel that you are incorrect with that assessment. However, I seem to have gained her trust for the time being. I'm just unsure as to how long I'll be able to keep that trust."

"What do you mean, Dr. Brennan?"

"You know her better than I do, Cam," Brennan answered. "It's only a matter of time before I say something that unintentionally causes her harm."

"That won't happen," Cam argued. "You've always had a wonderful connection with that girl. It's not easy for me to say this, but I envied the bond the two of you shared. She was able to confide in you about things, painful things, that she didn't want anyone else to know. And you've always said the right thing in the past. Now is no different."

When Cam saw that Brennan was about to protest, she spoke up again. "And if you ever need any help, call me. Or talk to Booth. Or Angela. Or Sweets. We're all here to help you. We want the same thing."

"Morgan to come back home safely," Brennan finished.

"Yes," Cam agreed. She was silent for a few moments before making a request to her colleague. "When she's ready, I want to speak with her. I trust you, but I need to see for myself-"

"I'll make sure that can happen," Brennan said. Brennan's phone beeped, pulling her attention from the video conference. "Hold on a minute, Cam."

Brennan reached into her bag and pulled out her phone. She flipped it open and read the text message she received from Booth.

_Back at the motel. Vincent locked himself in his room w/a promise to meet up with us in the morning. It's late, call me to pick you up soon._

Brennan sighed and set the phone down onto the table.

"Is everything okay, Dr. Brennan?" Cam's concerned voice asked.

"Yes, but I should probably be getting back to the motel," Brennan replied.

"Okay. Again, call if you need anything. I want to help."

"I know you do. Thank you." Brennan smiled and then disconnected the video conference. She sent a quick text in reply to Booth, and then began to pack up her things.

oOo

Rosemary found her talk with Dr. Brennan to be very enlightening. For the past two years, Rosemary had been continuously pulled in one direction or another. She had virtually no say over anything that happened to her. Rather, she merely went with the flow and allowed others to guide her.

But now, Rosemary found herself standing on the precipice of change; a cliff on the side of a mountain in which she can either continue her climb to the summit or jump off the cliff and see where the free fall into the unknown takes her. It was a huge choice. One she wasn't sure she had enough strength to face.

_Strength_, that's the operative word, isn't it? What exactly is strength? Is it the physical embodiment, manifestation, of the power behind one's muscles? Or is it the will, determination, the power of one's mind to handle strenuous emotional situations? And who determines the strength of an individual? Is it placed upon someone by an outside force? Or is it created from within? Is strength built, conditioned, over time? Or is it an innate quality that resides within any given individual?

Rosemary's memory of Dr. Brennan and herself engaging in an emotional conversation at the Jeffersonian revealed that Dr. Brennan believed strength to be an emotional aspect of someone's life. Sure, people have physical strength. But there are recorded instances where in a time of crisis, even the tiniest person could draw upon enough adrenaline to accomplish some impossible physical feats. Like lifting a car, for example.

Physical strength is relevant to specific situations. Emotional strength, on the other hand, is something that a person carries with them at all times.

Dr. Brennan had told her that she was strong because she embraced her emotions, rather than rejecting them. A strong person is someone who can lead a functional life, despite any horrors that may reside in the past.

_'I am strong,'_ Rosemary thought to herself. _'I can get through this. I can get through anything.'_

Dr. Brennan called her strong. And for some unknown reason, Rosemary trusted Dr. Brennan. Dr. Brennan was the one person who didn't try to sway her opinion in one way or another. She had provided Rosemary with facts, given her space, and allowed her time to figure things out on her own.

And that's exactly what she was going to do.

Rosemary crawled onto her bed and pulled open her laptop computer. She was going to find out everything she could about herself, her friends, and the person responsible for taking all of that away from her.

**AN: Thanks for all of your reviews! I always love reading them. And I trying really hard to make updates happen more quickly...**

**Now...I need chocolate...**


	17. So, You Climbed A Tree At 3 AM?

**AN: I know you all are wondering, but I never did get any chocolate :( Got too distracted by popcorn, board games, and a movie night with my roomies...and FYI: SORRY is one brutal game, let me tell ya! There was yelling, throwing things, conspiring against others for revenge...and don't even get me started on CRANIUM...oy vey!**

Chapter 17:

It was a small_ tap_ on the window that awoke Brennan from her deep slumber. She looked over to her husband, checking to see if he was awoken by the same noise. He wasn't. Figuring that she had imagined the noise, Brennan laid back down and cuddled up to Booth's warm, naked body.

Just as sleep was about to reclaim her, Brennan heard it again. The distinct _tap_ of something hitting the glass surface of the window. Brennan rolled out of bed and covered herself with her robe, which had been laying on the floor a few feet away.

Feeling the loss of Brennan's body heat stirred Booth from his peaceful slumber. He brought the palm of his hand up to rub the sleep from his eyes, then spotted his wife pulling on her robe a few feet from the bed. His husky, tired voice filled the silence of the room. "Bones? What are doing awake?"

Brennan turned to look at Booth. "I heard something at the window."

All sleepiness immediately disappeared from Booth, as his inner sniper alerted him to possible danger. He immediately got out of bed, pulling on his boxers as walked over towards his wife and whispered, "What do you mean you _heard_ something at the window?"

Before Brennan could answer, another _tap_ rattled against the glass.

Booth immediately placed himself between his wife and the window.

"See?" Brennan whispered directly into his ear. "I told you I heard something."

Booth slowly made his way towards the window, grabbing his gun on the way.

"Booth, is that really necessary?" Brennan murmured, motioning her hand towards the gun.

"Yes, it is," Booth replied, keeping his voice low. "Now stay behind me."

As Booth made his way over towards the light switch, Brennan ignored his advice and walked towards the curtains.

"Bones! What did I just say?" Booth scolded quietly, sensing that Brennan was no longer behind him.

Brennan rolled her eyes and muttered, "This is getting ridiculous, Booth."

Before Booth could turn on lights, Brennan pulled open the curtains. She squinted out the window, attempting to see what had caused the noise.

The tension quickly melted as Brennan saw the source of the noise. She quickly turned back to Booth, motioning for him to turn on the lights. "Booth, it's Morgan."

Brennan turned her attention back outside, and reached out to open the window.

"Rosemary?" Brennan questioned, not quite believing her eyes as she saw the young woman balancing on the tree outside of the motel room.

Morgan chose to ignore that greeting from Dr. Brennan, instead choosing to go for a slightly safer topic. "It's about time ya came to window. I was running outta pennies to throw."

Brennan smiled incredulously. "Sweetheart, why are you standing on a tree outside of a motel window?"

"The guy who works here is kinda creepy," Morgan replied, as if stating the obvious. "I didn't want to risk him seeing me out here alone."

"So you climbed a tree, in the dark, at 3 o'clock in the morning?" Booth questioned while checking the bedside clock.

"Yes, it's not like it's all that difficult," Morgan retorted, defensively. "Listen, it's kinda cold out here, can I come in?"

"Yes, of course," Brennan answered as she reached her arm out of the window for Morgan to grab onto for support. Morgan clasped her hand onto Brennan's arm and allowed herself to be pulled into the motel room.

"Oomph," Morgan grunted as her feet landed roughly on the floor. "Thanks, Dr. Brennan." She turned her attention to the other occupant of the room and threw a sly grin at him. "You're Booth, right? It's nice to see you again, Agent Hot Stuff."

Booth rolled his eyes in joking manner. "Oh great, little Ange is back!"

Morgan raised her eyebrows at that statement, not quite having her full memories back. "I'm not sure what that means."

Booth's happy expression fell at the realization that Morgan still had a ways to go before returning to her normal self.

"Booth was making a joke, because you are exhibiting qualities that my best friend, Angela Montenegro, also exudes," Brennan explained. "Hence the nickname little Ange."

"What kind of qualities?" Morgan asked, her interest piqued.

"Like referring to Booth as Agent Hot Stuff," Brennan merely replied.

Morgan blushed, then brought her eyes up to meet Booth's. "Yeah, sorry about that. It just kinda slipped out before I had a chance to stop it."

Booth smiled fondly. "Not a problem. You used to say things like that all the time."

Morgan nodded her head, but refused to comment any further. Her eyes shifted over to the unmade bed and scanned over the clothes thrown haphazardly around the room. Morgan raised her eyebrow as she took in the scene. "Good night?"

Brennan glanced over her shoulder, following Morgan's gaze. She smiled at the memory of what occurred just a few hours ago and then turned her attention back to the girl. "Yes, very good night."

"I, uh, I can go if ya want me to," Morgan said. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Nah, it's fine. You didn't," Booth answered.

Brennan wrapped her arm around Morgan's shoulder and led her over to the desk chair. Booth sat down on the bed, while Brennan pulled over another chair so that she was seated directly in front of Morgan.

"How did you find out where Booth and I are staying?" Brennan asked. "I assume you're here to speak with us, probably about something rather important, given the time of night."

Morgan nodded. "Yeah, I hope you don't mind. I asked around and the sheriff told me that you were staying here."

"We don't mind," Brennan assured. "We are quite glad that you sought us out."

Morgan was quiet for a few minutes. Booth and Brennan allowed her the time to gather her thoughts.

"Is it over?" Morgan whispered, almost too quiet for anyone to hear.

"Is what over?" Booth asked, needing clarification on the broad topic of 'it'.

"Everything," Morgan replied. "I...I find myself with a choice to make." She took a deep breath before continuing. "And if I choose to go back-" Morgan choked on her words, biting her bottom lip to keep from crying. "I can't do it if unless I'll be able to move on and-"

Brennan grabbed Morgan's hand, holding it tightly within her own. "Look at me." Brennan waited until she had eye contact with the girl. "Hey, remember what I told you earlier? We caught him."

Morgan nodded her head. "Trisitan Howards is in jail. I know. I read that he was convicted. It just...it doesn't seem real. I..I don't even remember him, beyond that he was a TA in one of my classes and a star athlete. He was nice to me. Are you positive that he's the one that really did this?"

Brennan nodded her head. "Without a doubt."

"I read up on him," Morgan admitted. "He killed three girls, plus what he did to me?"

"Yeah," Booth said. "He did. Possibly hurt more women, too."

"And his appeals?" Morgan questioned. "They seem to be getting a ton of attention from the media. They say he's going to be released."

Booth shook his head. "No. He's in jail, and we're going to keep it that way. The squints, well, they're gonna make sure that happens."

"My team is very good," Brennan added.

Morgan focused her gaze on Brennan. "Why did you declare me dead?"

Brennan scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Agent Perotta had taken control over the case. We found a body, we thought it was you. It wasn't conclusive, obviously, but Agent Perotta took me off the case."

Morgan nodded her head, tears leaking from her eyes.

"I never believed it though," Brennan continued. "The evidence may have_ indicated_ that it was true, but it wasn't _conclusive_. So I kept searching."

"Why couldn't ya have just left me dead?" Morgan snapped. Guilt instantly flooded her eyes upon seeing the hurt in Brennan's face. "Dammit, I'm sorry. It was just easier, you know, before."

"No, I understand," Brennan whispered, letting go of Morgan's hand. "I am sorry for further complicating your life."

"I'm sorry," Morgan pleaded. "I didn't mean it. I don't blame you. I'm glad you found me."

Brennan got up from her seat and made her way to the small coffee maker the motel provided. "Did you want any coffee? Or tea?"

"Coffee would be good," Morgan smiled, weakly. "It's been a long night."

"Okay," Brennan agreed as she began to turn on the machine. "Coffee it is."

"So, Angela was the woman you were speaking to earlier?" Morgan questioned. "On your computer? She seems to be doing well."

"Yes, she is," Brennan answered. "She and Hodgins are officially together now. They got married a few months ago."

"Angela seems like a nice person. Good for her on the whole marriage deal," Morgan replied. "How's Cam?"

Booth looked up in shock. "You remember her?"

Morgan nodded her head. "I read the bios of everyone at the Jeffersonian tonight. When I got to hers, I started to remember."

"Cam is fine," Booth answered. "She's a tough one."

"She misses you," Brennan added. "I spoke with her after you left. She'd like to speak with you whenever you feel ready."

"I'd like that," Morgan admitted, albeit rather reluctantly.

Brennan poured three cups of coffee. She handed the first cup over to Morgan before going back to grab the other two, one of which she gave to Booth.

"I read that the two of you got married," Morgan stated. "Congratulations."

Booth's smile lit up the room. "Thank you!"

"How's that going for the two of you?"

"Better than I could have ever imagined," Booth replied while looking Brennan in the eyes.

"I find that I am quite glad to have reconsidered my views on marriage," Brennan confessed while maintaining eye contact with Booth.

"The internet tabloids went crazy with articles about the two of you after you gave birth to your daughter," Morgan said. "What's her name?"

"Lilah Ann Booth," Brennan said. "We usually call her Lily."

"That's a beautiful name," Morgan smiled. "How old is she now?"

"Seven months," Brennan answered.

"I'd like to meet her one day," Morgan stated.

"We'd like that too," Booth replied.

"And how're things back at the lab?" Morgan questioned.

"They're good," Brennan smiled. "We're working on several cases at the moment."

Silence once again overtook the room, as each contemplated their own thoughts while they sipped away at their coffee.

"Dr. Brennan?"

"Yes, Rosemary?"

Morgan shook her head. "Please don't call me that."

"What?" Brennan questioned. "You don't wish to be called Rosemary?"

"I think I'd like to try being Morgan again."

Booth smiled widely. "Really?"

"Yeah, I'd really like to try," Morgan confessed. "Would that be okay with everyone?"

"Would that be okay?" Booth asked. "Why would you think that it wouldn't be?"

Morgan shrugged her shoulder. "I can't guarantee that I'll be the same person I was before."

"Sweetheart, we would be honored to have you back in our lives," Brennan stated. "It's why we never gave up looking for you."

Morgan took a deep breath. "I really messed up."

Booth furrowed his eyebrows. "How so?"

"I hurt a lot of people," Morgan confessed. "And I feel like I'll be hurting a bunch more before all of this is over."

Booth shook his head. "You haven't hurt anyone, kiddo."

"Yeah I did," Morgan disagreed. "I hurt Vincent."

"Sweetheart, he understands," Brennan replied.

"Just because he understands, doesn't mean that he isn't hurting," Morgan retorted. "And I'm responsible for causing him that pain."

"No, you're not," Booth argued. "He thinks he's causing_ you_ pain."

Morgan looked up at Booth, alarmed. "What! Why would he think that?"

"From the confrontation the two of you had in the alley," Brennan explained.

"Oh no," Morgan berated herself. "I didn't mean it. I...I didn't know. He...he has to know that!"

"He knows," Booth stated. "He's upset, but he knows that you've been through a lot. He wants to give you time to remember."

"He's going to give you space as well," Brennan added. "He feels as if his presence is impacting you negatively. He will most likely be returning to DC tomorrow afternoon."

Morgan nodded. "I need to talk to him."

"Yes, you should," Brennan agreed.


	18. Water of Life

**AN: Woot Woot! I'M BACK, BABY!**

**So, I've been a roller coaster of emotions lately (due to a very short notice, emergency trip to visit the family back home). Then, I drove back to SoCal to sign the paperwork for my new place, which I've officially moved into AND finally have internet access on something other than my cell phone. YAY! I'm so sorry it took so long to get this up, though. But hey, things happen...**

Chapter 18:

"Vincent, if you're in there, please open up," Morgan pleaded. She had spent the past 5 minutes standing in front of Vincent's motel room door knocking and listening for any sign of movement from within.

Realizing that she wasn't going to get an answer, she leaned her back against the door and pulled out her cell phone. Before venturing down to visit Vincent, Morgan had updated the address book of her phone to include the numbers for both Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan. Rather than making the journey back upstairs, Morgan figured that it would be easiest to just send a quick text to them as a means of asking for advice.

It was possible that Vincent was standing just on the other side of the door, avoiding her. And that made her sad, knowing that she had inadvertently hurt him so much that he would choose to avoid her rather than speak with her. But it was just as possible that Vincent had gone out for the night, or perhaps had even left early to go back to Washington DC. And that worried her more than anything.

With a heavy sigh, Morgan dialed in a text message to Dr. Brennan: _He's not answering. Are you sure he's here?_

While waiting for a reply, Morgan tried knocking on the door once again. "Vincent, if you're there...just answer the damn door! I'm sorry, I need to talk to ya! And I don't wanna do it by shouting through a door which you may or may not be standing behind. Please? Just let me in..."

Instead of an answer originating from behind the motel door, Morgan's phone beeped to signal an incoming message. Morgan looked down at her phone and read Dr. Brennan's reply: _Meet me in the lobby._

Morgan sighed and then made her way into the motel lobby. She knew that she'd arrive before Dr. Brennan, so she walked straight to the stack of local attraction brochures on display in the corner of the lobby. Morgan kept her distance from Leroy Potter, the man who worked the nightshift.

"Well I'll be! If it ain't lil' miss LeFay!" Leroy greeted as spotted Morgan standing by the brochure stack.

Morgan flinched at the sound of Leroy's voice. She turned to look at him, plastering a fake smile on her face. "Hi, Mr. Potter."

"Now, now missy, there's no need for formality. I've told ya before to call me Leroy."

"What's wrong with formality?" Morgan questioned, glancing towards the door in hopes of seeing Dr. Brennan. "I like a little formal distance once in a while."

"Formality is for strangers," Leroy scoffed. "This, here, is a small town. We're practically family."

"It's not quite that small," Morgan retorted. "There's actually more than 20,000 people here. That's quite a large number, and can in no way be considered small. Especially for this part of the country."

"Aw, honey. That's just a number. It ain't mean anything," Leroy countered. "After all, everybody knows about you. Your story."

Morgan tensed upon hearing this. "I'm not comfortable with the direction this conversation seems to be heading, Mr. Potter."

"But, by lookin' at ya," Leroy continued, "well, there ain't a person in this world that would be able to tell what ya went through. There ain't but a scratch on your pretty lil' face."

Morgan was saved from having to reply to that statement by the arrival of Dr. Brennan, whom was the immediate recipient of Leroy Potter's attention.

Leroy raked his eyes over Brennan, who was now wearing what were presumably a pair of Agent Booth's sweatpants and his FBI t-shirt. "Good evening, ma'am. Where's your FBI boy?"

"I would imagine that he's asleep upstairs," Brennan replied. "And he isn't a boy. I have plenty of personal experience to evidence the fact that he is, indeed, a man."

Morgan stifled laughter in her amusement over Dr. Brennan's bluntness.

"I bet ya do have plenty of experience," Leroy smirked. "And just what is a gorgeous woman like yourself, ma'am, doing out here all by herself this time of night?"

"Oh, she's not by herself," Morgan answered. "She left Agent Booth's room to come meet me down here."

"Really? I guess I can see that," Leroy joked. "I'm not sure that I have another room available for y'all tonight, buy ya can feel free to make use of my office."

"Ew, that's...skeevy," Morgan replied.

"I don't know what that means," Brennan stated. "But I was actually wondering, Leroy, if you could make me another copy of the key to room 101."

"Ain't that the room you've got a British fella stayin' in?" Leroy asked.

"Yes, it is," Brennan answered. "He doesn't appear to be in, but I find that I'm in need of retrieving something from inside of his room."

"Yeah, that boy ain't in his room," Leroy replied. "He came in here a few hours ago asking about a few of the local bars."

Brennan's face fell as she let out a heavy sigh. "Oh, he did, did he? I'm not sure that was the best idea on his behalf."

"Wait, what's wrong with him going out for a few drinks?" Morgan questioned. "Especially after what happened between us earlier. I'm sure he could use a few beers, or a couple of shots of something stronger."

"What happened earlier?" Leroy wondered aloud.

Brennan shot a quick glance over to Leroy. "That's not really any of your business."

Morgan tugged slightly on the sleeve of Brennan's shirt. "Dr. Brennan, can I talk to ya for a minute? In private."

"Yes, you may," Brennan replied. "Leroy, could you get that key ready for me? I'll only be a moment."

Brennan waited for Leroy to nod in approval before following Morgan out into the parking lot.

"Dr. Brennan, I'm going to need ya to fill in some gaps for me," Morgan began.

"Although I am becoming quite adept at learning the rules of social interactions and use of colloquialisms, I have to confess that I don't know what that means," Brennan admitted.

"You see, it's possible that I'll be able to regain all of the memories that are still eluding me," Morgan explained. "However, there are some things I will never remember, because I don't have any memories of them because I wasn't there when they occurred."

"Okay, I believe I am following your logic," Brennan stated, "however convoluted it may be."

"So, I need ya to explain to me what exactly happened during the two years I wasn't in DC," Morgan said. "Why is is not okay for Vincent to be drinking alcohol?"

Brennan sighed. "Vincent was unable to deal with the emotional ramifications following your _death_. He began drinking heavily, the alcohol having the affect of numbing the portion of his brain associated with pain and grief."

"How long has this been going on?" Morgan questioned.

"He recently became sober," Brennan answered. "This case is the first he's worked on in nearly two years. I fear that the stress associated with this, in combination with his disappointing interaction with you earlier today, has served to make him 'fall off of the wagon', as Booth would say. Although I'm not quite sure what a wagon has to do with alcoholism."

Morgan shook her head in disappointment. "He didn't _fall_ off of the wagon. I _pushed_ him off of it by behaving incredibly irrational upon seeing him."

"You weren't acting irrationally," Brennan assured her. "Given the knowledge you believed to be accurate at the time, you behaved quite rationally. It's just that your actions were based on erroneous anecdotal evidence, rather than factual evidence."

oOo

It was nearly dawn by the time the motel room door flung open and a drunken Vincent Nigel Murray stumbled over the threshold carrying a six pack of beer in one hand and a half empty bottle of whiskey in the other.

Morgan sat teary-eyed in a chair in the corner of the room, silently watching as Vincent juggled the alcohol while simultaneously trying to close the door. She sat there in the dark, unnoticed, and waited for Vincent to become aware of his surroundings.

Morgan decided that simply making her presence known was the best way to start the much needed conversation. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for his response, and loudly cleared her throat.

Vincent jumped in surprise. His eyes found the outline of Morgan through the darkness. He blinked his eyes in shock a couple of times before speaking. "Are you really here?"

Morgan abruptly turned on the lamp, revealing herself to Vincent. "At least you didn't leave town. What the _hell_ happened to you, Vincent?"

Vincent stumbled over to the bed and sat down. The disappointment evident in Morgan's eyes was almost too much for him to handle. He was carrying enough guilt and disappointment on his own, he didn't think he could handle hers as well.

"Really? You have _nothing_ to say? Nothing at all?" Morgan huffed out in anger. "I know I missed out on a lot these past two years, and I know that it's completely my fault, but how could you let yourself get so far gone? Especially over someone like me. I'm _not_ worth it, Vincent. I'm not worth _this_."

Vincent's head snapped up and his eyes narrowed in anger. "How could you say a thing like that? How could you even _think_ it? You're worth everything. Never doubt that."

"I drove you to become an alcoholic!"

"I made the choice on my own," Vincent mumbled. "It felt better than having to deal with reality. Than to deal with losing you."

"Is that why you went out to drink tonight?" Morgan questioned. "Despite the fact that you had started to straighten yourself out."

"I already lost you once," Vincent slurred. "And then here you were, standing right in front of me, taking comfort in my arms. But something snapped. You thought...you thought that I was the one who hurt you, that I had betrayed you. And you ran away. You ran away! You said that you didn't want to see me again. I couldn't handle losing you one more time!"

"I'm so sorry for that," Morgan whispered. "I was confused. I didn't mean what I said."

"I know," Vincent admitted. "Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth assured me that was most likely the case."

Morgan walked over and picked up the bottle of whiskey that had fallen to the floor when Vincent first noticed her sitting in the room. "You shouldn't be drinking."

Vincent nodded his head. "Did you know that the term whiskey is the anglicization of two Goidelic language terms, the Irish _uisce beatha_ and the Scottish Gaelic _uisge beatha_, which literally mean 'water of life'. Seemed fitting to drink whiskey while dealing with losing you."

A glimmer of a smile shadowed across Morgan's face. "I missed that."

Vincent smiled as well. "Missed what, exactly?"

"You. You spouting off random facts."

"Well, I'll always be here for you, with as many random facts as your heart desires."

Morgan laughed, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders. "That's good to know." She walked over to the bed and sat down next to Vincent. "Listen, I'm so incredibly sorry about earlier. I know that ya didn't hurt me. You would _never_ hurt me. I was scared. I'm still trying to figure everything out."

Vincent nodded his head. "So, where does that leave us?"

"Do you want there to be an 'us', even after everything that's happened?"

"Yes, I do."

Morgan pondered that thought in silence for a moment. "I need time. I don't know how things stand between us right now. I have some memories of how I used to feel. Although I'm missing more memories than I possess. It's confusing. And I still need to figure out how I'm supposed to integrate the life I've spent the past two years building with the life I used to have."

"I understand," Vincent mumbled.

"Please don't be sad," Morgan urged. "I don't want ya to lose hope. Things'll work out. They have to. Are...are you still gonna go back to DC?"

Vincent nodded. "It's what's for the best. You deserve time, and space, to figure everything out. I wouldn't want it to seem like I'm pressuring you to make a decision. But, just know, that I will be here for you. Should you need me, that is."

Morgan reached over and grabbed Vincent's hand, intertwining her fingers with his. She squeezed lightly in acknowledgement. "Thank you."

Vincent locked eyes with her and nodded in response. He took his other hand and wrapped it around Morgan's shoulders, pulling her into his embrace. He kissed her head and whispered, "I love you."

Morgan smiled and pulled herself deeper into his embrace. "I know."

Vincent loosened his hold on Morgan and said, "We should probably get rid of this alcohol, shouldn't we?"

She leaned back slightly, placing a chaste kiss on Vincent's cheek. When she pulled away, she locked her hazel eyes on his shining azure eyes. "Yes, we should. And you should get some rest before you're flight this afternoon."

"I'm not really all that tired, can't we just sit and talk?" Vincent asked, hoping to prolong his limited time with her. "You could tell me about the life you've built here. I would like to know how you've been."

Morgan smiled and walked over to the sink. She looked down at the bottle of whiskey in her hands. "Water of life, huh?" She unscrewed the cap and took a small swig of the amber liquid, before pouring the rest down the drain.

**AN: So, what would you like to see next? Do we want to see Morgan and Vincent's conversation, or should I jump to his departure at the airport. And we've got a little bit of case work for B/B to do. But not too much. I don't want to dwell on that. Then we return to DC. Morgan struggles with her decisions (some of which are yet to be seen), as well as attends some therapy sessions with Sweets. The trial will come and go. And B/B will have to deal with the aftermath of the trial and what it means for them and their family. If there's anything specific you want to see, let me know and I'll try to work it in!**


	19. Airport Meetings

**AN: Thank you so much for your reviews! They are seriously helping me get back into the groove of things. Oh, and just as a side note: I was watching the Jersey Shore episode of Bones while writing this. YAY! :D**

Chapter 19:

Vincent and Morgan sat together on his bed, both leaning their backs up against the headboard. They were close, yet maintained enough space between them so that they were not touching.

"So...," Vincent said in an attempt to break the awkward silence that had fallen over them.

"So...," Morgan echoed, desperate to find a way to end this stalemate.

Morgan had emptied out every last ounce of alcohol nearly 30 minutes ago. Since then, the two have sat together on the bed in an uncomfortable silence that had settled between them.

"What were you doing at the hospital earlier?" Vincent inquired, once his curiosity was strong enough to outweigh his nervousness.

"Oh...uh...I work there," Morgan answered.

"You do?" Vincent smiled. "That's brilliant! I suppose you'd be a nurse?"

"Kinda," Morgan replied. "I'm a candy striper, actually. Basically, a paid volunteer. Don, the doctor who treated me two years ago, gave me the job as a way to help me pay off some of my medical expenses. One of the nurses, Maggie, offered to let me stay with her for free. I've been able to pay off most of my medical bills, but I still owe a bit. And I'll never be able to repay the debt I owe to Don or Maggie."

"Financially, I could possibly help y-"

"No, it's fine," Morgan interrupted. "I can take care of it on my own."

"Okay," Vincent nodded, then sat in silence for a few moments as he contemplated his next question. "You have a form of amnesia, correct? How much of your old life did you remember when you first arrived here?"

Morgan shook her head. "Not much. I only just started to remember some things."

Vincent was silent for a minute, pondering the fact that Morgan had lived her life for nearly two years without many memories. "That must have been very difficult for you."

"It wasn't as bad as you'd think," Morgan admitted, unconsciously shifting closer to Vincent. "I didn't have to constantly relive the memories from my kidnapping. It was kinda a blessing, actually. After all, isn't ignorance supposed to be bliss?"

"Right," Vincent said, half heartedly. "I guess there is a bright side to everything. So...you work at a hospital and live with a nurse. What else is new?"

"Not much, really," Morgan said. "I babysit the sheriff's daughter once in a while." Morgan smiled brightly. "Her name is Ruthie Lee. Aw, I really wish you could meet her. She's incredibly adorable. And very bright and intuitive for her age."

"That's wonderful," Vincent said.

"Yeah, it is," Morgan agreed. She sighed heavily before beginning her next statement, one she wasn't sure she wanted to share with him. Yet, she knew that he needed to know this bit of information; it would be wrong of her to hide it. "I've been seeing someone."

Vincent tensed upon hearing this. He knew it was the rational thing for her to do. She had no real memory of him, and two years is a long time. Although he hated to acknowledge that fact, it was probably best for her to have found a new support system.

The weight of Morgan's confession filled the room, creating a heavy silence as she waited for Vincent's reply. She knew he wasn't going to be happy with what she had just told him, but she didn't feel right leaving him unaware of this significant change.

Sensing her uneasiness, Vincent decided to lighten the mood a bit. Of course, he also hoped he could distract her long enough to avoid further comment on the matter. "What, you mean like a hallucination or something? You understand that's really not quite normal..."

Morgan broke out into laughter at his highly unexpected statement. She curled in closer to him and playfully swatted him on the chest. "You know what I mean."

Vincent laughed, albeit half heartedly, and wrapped his arm around Morgan as she laid her head on his shoulder. She idly played with the buttons on his shirt, waiting for Vincent's real reaction to her former statement.

"Is it serious?"

Morgan chose to ignore his question. "His name is Riley Scott. He's a doctor; a pediatrician, actually. Well, technically a neonatologist. He's been very kind to me and has been nothing but supportive."

"Is it serious?" Vincent asked again in a more passionate tone.

"We...we haven't had sex, if that's what you're wondering. I'm not really ready for that step. With anyone," Morgan answered. "But...uh...yeah, I really like him. I'm just not sure how he fits into everything anymore. Like I said, I need time to figure it all out."

oOo

Vincent and Morgan had spent the rest of the early hours of the morning chatting light heartedly about various topics ranging from current tastes in movies, music, and books to the prognosis of Vincent's dissertation. But eventually exhaustion claimed them, and they both fell into a gentle slumber.

They awoke, wrapped in each other's arms, a few hours later to the sound of someone knocking on Vincent's motel room door.

"Hold on a minute," Vincent grumbled as he rolled off of the bed and stumbled toward the door. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder and, upon seeing Morgan sitting up and staring at him with bed head and tired eyes, he pulled open the door.

"Glad to see you're alive and well, Mr. Nigel-Murray," Brennan said as a greeting. "We were quite worried when we were informed of your quest to find alcohol."

"Oh, Dr. Brennan," Vincent replied. "Good morning."

"Yes, it was," Brennan agreed. "But it is now, in fact, early afternoon."

"Well, then, good afternoon, Dr. Brennan," Morgan stated as she came up to stand beside Vincent in the doorway. "Would you like to come in?"

"No, I wouldn't." Brennan took a moment to observe the appearance of the two young adults. "I didn't interrupt you in a prelude to sexual intercourse, did I?"

Blush crept up on Morgan's face as she choked back laughter. "No. You didn't."

Brennan nodded her head. "Oh good, because I really would have disliked interrupting a moment such as that." Brennan inhaled deeply before continuing to state the reason behind her visit. "Anyway, I'm here to inquire about whether or not you've made a decision on returning to DC, Mr. Nigel-Murray."

Vincent glanced quickly at Morgan before answering. "Actually, yes. I have decided that it would be best, given the current circumstances, for me to return."

Brennan nodded. "Very well then, I will call Cam to have her arrange for your return flight. I believe she hopes to send Dr. Sweets here to accompany you and to speak with you about your behavior last night."

"Alright, Dr. Brennan," Vincent replied. He then turned his attention to Morgan. "I should finish packing my belongings, then."

Morgan nodded her head. "Okay. I'll take you to the airport, though?"

"Absolutely," Vincent stated, his eyes sparkling in delight. "I would very much enjoy that."

"Okay, I'll just head home to change, then I'll come back over to meet up with ya."

Vincent agreed to Morgan's plans, then closed himself inside of his motel room to start getting ready.

Morgan, on the other hand, walked with Dr. Brennan into the parking lot.

"I'm sorry," Brennan started to say, "I didn't realize that you'd still be in Mr. Nigel-Murray's room this morning, otherwise I wouldn't have stopped by."

"No worries, Dr. Brennan," Morgan laughed. "It's probably a good thing you came by to wake us up."

"Are you doing okay?" Brennan inquired.

Morgan smiled. "Yeah. Things went...things went really well last night. A lot better than I figured they would."

"That's good," Brennan stated. "How's he doing?"

"He's hopeful," Morgan supplied. "I just hope I won't disappoint him."

"You won't."

Morgan laughed. "How do you know? I thought you didn't make suppositions without concrete facts."

"I know you," Brennan replied, simply.

"I've changed, though," Morgan reminded her.

"But the core of you remains the same," Brennan answered. "Due to traumatic events some of your personality traits may have changed, but the foundation behind your personality remains the same."

"Ha! Well, I'm glad to know you have faith in me," Morgan smiled. "Are you headed back to the hospital?"

"Yes," Brennan said. "My day started a little later than I was hoping, but I am now headed to work on the case."

"Where's Agent Booth?"

"He went to have lunch with Officer Marks to talk about the case. He's supposed to meet me in the morgue after he's finished."

Morgan nodded her head. "Can I ask you something?"

Brennan stopped walking, just short of arriving to Booth's SUV. "Sure. What is it?"

"Can I get a ride over to Maggie's house? I don't have a car, and it's a little bit of a distance to walk there."

"Well, how'd you get here last night?"

"I...uh...was with Riley. He drove me here."

Brennan merely nodded her head in understanding. "Hop in."

oOo

"Do you have enough money to pay for a taxi to take you home?" Vincent asked as he paid the cab driver who brought him and Morgan to the airport.

"I'm not gonna take a cab back," Morgan replied. "Um...Riley is gonna meet me here to give me a ride back."

"Oh. He is, huh?" Vincent said, trying to keep the twinge of jealousy out of his voice as he faked nonchalance. "Were you aware that there are approximately 3700 board certified neonatologists in the United States. Of those, nearly 65% are male."

"I was not aware of that," Morgan laughed. "How the heck do you know these things? It's amazing how many random facts you seem to be able to fit into that brain of yours. And while we're at it, _why_ would you even know these things?"

"All facts are useful," Vincent reminded her. "It's just the context that shifts."

"Alright, I'll remember that," Morgan joked. "Do you know which flight you're on yet?"

"Not presently," Vincent admitted. "Dr. Saroyan is sending Dr. Sweets with that information."

"So, who is Dr. Sweets, anyways?" Morgan asked. "And why is he coming here to escort you back to DC?"

"He's a psychologist whom works for the FBI," Vincent answered. "I would suspect that Dr. Saroyan sent him here to meet up with you prior to heading back to DC with me."

"Why would I need to meet an FBI psychologist?" Morgan questioned. After a short moment of reflection, she had her answer. She was the victim of a crime that was under jurisdiction of the FBI. Not only that, but she was apparently friends with an FBI agent and a few FBI liaisons. "Oh, right. Stupid question."

"Do you think you'll be well enough to testify at Tristian Howards' appeal?"

"Dr. Brennan told me that was still a few months away," Morgan explained. "Hopefully by then my memory will have recovered enough to allow me to testify."

"Don't worry about it," Vincent stated. "We are going to make sure that he remains in jail."

"I know you will," Morgan said. "Wait, but how would Dr. Saroyan have known that I'd accompany you to the airport?"

"Hmm...," Vincent thought, aloud. "You raise a good point."

Before they could ponder that question any further, Sweets made his appearance.

"Mr. Nigel-Murray. I'm glad you made it here, man," Sweets greeted, then he noticed Morgan standing next to him. "Oh. Morgan! Totally awesome that you're here."

Morgan took a step back. She turned her head, looking at Vincent uncertainly, before turning back to face Sweets. "I'm sorry. Do I know you?"

Sweets' face fell slightly. "Yes, you do. But it's okay if you don't remember. You've been through a very traumatic experience."

"Thanks," Morgan said, still not quite trusting the man standing before her. "Um...who are you, again?"

"Oh, sorry," Sweets said, blushing slightly. "I'm Dr. Sweets."

"Okay, that makes a little more sense," Morgan stated, rolling her eyes. "It's nice to meet ya, Dr. Sweets."

Sweets just stared at Morgan, eyes wide in wonder. "Man, it's hard to believe you're actually here, standing right in front of us!"

"Perhaps we should discuss our return flight," Vincent said, stepping in to take some of the pressure off of Morgan.

"Oh, right!" Sweets said, snapping out of his daze. "Uh, we leave here in about 2 hours. So we have a little bit of time to sit around and talk before we need to head through security and go to our gate."

"Okay, well there's a small restaurant just before the security checkpoint. We could have a late lunch. Or an early dinner, depending on how ya look at it," Morgan suggested.

"That sounds like an excellent idea," Sweets agreed.

As they made their way over to the small restaurant, Morgan's phone chirped to alert her to an incoming message. She slowed her pace so she could check her message.

Sensing that Morgan had stopped walking, Sweets and Vincent turned around.

Vincent cocked his head to the side. "Is everything alright, Morgan?"

Morgan looked up and smiled at him. "Um...yeah. Listen, you two go ahead into the restaurant. Riley just got here, so I'm gonna go meet him up front."

"Oh," Vincent sighed, his sadness evident upon his face.

"But...uh...since you have some time before your flight," Morgan stated. "I'd like to introduce ya to him. So, go grab a table in the restaurant and we'll be right in."

Vincent nodded his head, grateful that he didn't have to say goodbye to Morgan quite yet. He just wished he didn't have to share her attention with the man competing with him for her affection.

Morgan gave him a sweet smile before turning around to head towards the main entrance of the airport.

"Are you alright, Vincent?" Sweets asked. "That's wicked harsh."

"I'm fine," Vincent sighed.

Sweets clapped his hand on Vincent's shoulder and led him towards the restaurant. "I'm sorry, man. Listen, while we've got some time we should talk. Dr. Saroyan sent me here to check up on you. We heard you had a little bit of a problem last night."

Vincent nodded his head and began to fill Sweets in on the details of yesterday's events. By the time he finished his tale, they were seated at a table in the center of the restaurant. Vincent kept his eyes on the door, anxiously awaiting Morgan's entrance.

"So, this Riley guy. He's...uh...Morgan's new boyfriend?" Sweets inquired.

"Yes," Vincent frowned. "He's a doctor. Looks like she's moving up in the world!"

"And what do you mean by that?" Sweets questioned.

"Well, you see," Vincent began to explain. His eyes wandered from the door to the restaurant's bar. "He already has his M.D. _I_, on the other hand, am still in the process of procuring my Ph.D. She's found someone better."

Sweets shook his head. "That's not true. I think you know that."

"What's not true?" Morgan interrupted.

"Nothing," Sweets answered.

Morgan looked at him skeptically. "Okay, then." She turned her attention to Vincent. "Hey, so this is Riley." She looked over her shoulder to where Riley was standing. "Ri, this is Vincent Nigel-Murray. And that's Dr. Sweets."

Riley extended his hand to the two men seated at the table. "Hello. It's very nice to meet you."

"Likewise," Sweets said.

Vincent merely stared at the man and tightened his grip on the man's hand during their handshake.

Riley raised his eyebrow at Vincent's ploy for dominance. "So, you both knew Rose before her accident?"

Vincent's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. "Who...who's Rose?"

"Oh, that's me," Morgan supplied. "Uh, Ri. They know me as Morgan. That's actually my real name. Morgan Johnson."

"Morgan?" Riley questioned, until understanding dawned on him. "Oh, like Morgan LeFay. That makes sense now."

Morgan smiled. "Yeah, I guess my subconscious was trying to tell me something, wasn't it?" She turned her attention back to Sweets and Vincent. "The nurse who treated me when I first arrived in this town named me Rosemary. I came up with the last name of LeFay."

"Rosemary is an herb that is believed to aid in memory enhancement," Vincent stated. "Other herbs known to do the same include ginkgo biloba and siberian ginseng."

Riley gave Vincent a funny look. "Okay then..."

"So, how long have the two of you known each other?" Sweets inquired.

"Not too terribly long," Riley answered, wrapping his arm around Morgan's shoulder. He then proceded to explain how he and Morgan met.

To Vincent's credit, he was able to manage to listen to the entire story without either storming out of the restaurant in anger or breaking down crying as he grieved the loss of Morgan's love. Sure, Morgan had said that she was unsure of what the future holds, but hearing their story and watching them interact told Vincent that Morgan was clearly choosing Riley over himself.

"Ah, listen, it was really great meeting the two of you," Riley began, "but we should be leaving pretty soon. I have a shift at the hospital this evening."

Morgan's face fell in disappointment. "Oh. Um...well, I guess I'll walk the two of you to security. And then we'll be on our way."

Vincent nodded.

"Sounds like a good idea, Morgan," Sweets agreed.

Sweets knew how hard this situation was on Vincent and knew it'd be for the best if they left now, before Riley became any more territorial over Morgan. After all, as their meal had progressed, Riley seemed to increasingly stake his claim over Morgan; whether it be through progressively more physical contact or by speaking up for Morgan to answer questions that were actually meant for her, rather than for him.

They paid the bill for their lunch, and made their way to the security checkpoint. Riley decided to give them some privacy and waited by the door.

"It was nice meeting you, Dr. Sweets," Morgan said.

Sweets nodded his head in agreement. "Should you decide to head back to DC, I'd be honored if you would attend some psychological counseling sessions with me. Perhaps we can work on regaining some more of your memories."

"I'd like that," Morgan said. She turned her attention to Vincent. "Again, I'm so sorry. For everything."

She knew that Riley had begun to behave unnecessarily clingy and protective during their meal, and she was going to have a nice long chat with him about that once they got into the car.

"I know you are," Vincent replied. "But you don't have to be."

Morgan nodded her head. "You have my number now, correct? Call me when you land."

"I will," Vincent agreed. "Promise me you'll give DC a chance."

"I promise that I'll come back for the trial," Morgan said. "But I can't guarantee that I'll stay. I still have some things to figure out."

Morgan closed the gap between herself and Vincent, hesitantly wrapping her arms around his waist. He returned the embrace and placed a soft kiss on her hair.

"I really do love you, Morgan."

Morgan nodded. "I know." She pulled back and placed a kiss on his cheek. "Take care."

Vincent smiled. "Funny. I was going to say the same to you."

Morgan laughed.

"We should probably get going," Sweets said, interrupting the tender moment.

"He's right," Morgan agreed.

She watched as Vincent nodded and turned around to start walking through the roped-off line at the security checkpoint. She felt tears begin to well in her eyes, feeling a sense of loss she hadn't felt in a long time. She knew she couldn't let him go without first letting him know how she felt.

"Vincent, wait!" Morgan yelled, just before Vincent made it to the security counter.

Vincent turned around at the sound of his name, pleasantly surprised to see Morgan running along the ropes towards where he was standing.

Without saying anything, Morgan wrapped her arms around Vincent's neck and brought his head down to hers. Their lips met in a passion that revealed her true feelings. After too short of time, she harshly pulled herself away. Her eyes locked with Vincent's, shining with unshed tears. She didn't say a word, but merely turned around and walked back to Riley.

Vincent stood there, utterly shocked.

"So, what did you think of Riley?" Sweets whispered to Vincent as soon as he saw Morgan walk out of the airport with the man in question.

"For the first time, I feel like using violence against another human being," Vincent answered, honestly.

**AN: Eureka! A gathering of Guidos!**

**Haha! Sorry, but I just had to ;)**


	20. Abraham, the Shepherd

**AN: Hey! It's me again! It feels so good to be updating frequently again! Alright, now we go back to B/B...**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bones :( I'm just a broke girl, living in the valley, hoping to find a job in the entertainment industry someday. Until then, I'll write to my heart's content...**

Chapter 20:

"I wish we didn't get such a late start this morning," Brennan stated as soon as Booth walked into the morgue. Officer Marks had just dropped him off at the hospital after their lunch meeting. Brennan had spent the past hour reviewing her findings as she waited for Angela to call her with an ID on the victim.

Booth laughed, stepping closer to his wife. "Hey, Bones, you're the only one to blame for that."

"What! That is a completely false accusation," Brennan protested. "As I recall, _you're_ the one who woke _me_ up to engage in coitus."

"Bones, come on," Booth said, stepping even closer to Brennan. "Don't you remember what we talked about earlier? It's called making love. Between us, it'll always be making love."

"Call it what you want, Booth," Brennan retorted, "but it doesn't change the fact that _you_ initiated things between us this morning; which, in effect, made us late."

"Hey, it's not like you were against the idea," Booth argued, his eyes darkening as he remember what occurred just a few hours earlier. "Besides, _I_ may have started things this morning, but _you_ wouldn't let them end. Or are you forgetting round 2 in the bed, then taking things into the shower for round 3?"

Brennan was saved from having to think of a clever response by the sound of the computer's video conferencing software alerting her to an incoming message. She quickly glanced to her husband, raising an eyebrow to show her disagreement with his previous statement, before walking over to the computer and accepting the video chat invitation.

"Angela, do you have an ID on the victim yet?" Brennan inquired as soon as the video connection was established.

"Hey there, Bren," Angela greeted, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "How are you doing? I'm fine, by the way..."

"Sorry, Ange," Brennan replied, "I didn't intend to skip the formal pleasantries of communication. I just find that I'm eager to wrap up this case and return home. I got a later start to the day then I was hoping for."

"A late start, huh?" Angela grinned. "Do tell!"

"Wait, hold it!" Booth interrupted, stepping in front of the webcam so he could be seen by Angela. He quickly glanced between the computer screen and his wife. "No one is going to discuss the details of our sex life."

"Oh, hey there, Studly!" Angela greeted. "Looking good!"

"Right back at ya," Booth replied. "Now, do we have an ID yet?"

"You owe me details, Bren," Angela said as she winked at the camera. "Okay, so the victim is Abraham Shepherd. Now, coincidentally he is also a shepherd."

"What, like a dog?" Booth asked.

Brennan gave Booth a strange look. "Our victim is not a dog. I would assume that Angela meant that the victim is a shepherd, as in the term for his occupation. He raises sheep."

"Yes, that's right," Angela smiled. "Records show that he owns an estate in Deering, Ohio, right off of State Road 243. He has a teenage son, Isaac, who still lives there."

"Thanks, Ange," Brennan said. "Can you send me the address of his estate?"

"Sure thing, sweetie."

oOo

Booth and Brennan sat on the couch in the living room of an old farmhouse on Abraham Shepherd's estate. Sitting on a chair across from them was Isaac Shepherd, the victim's 19 year old son.

Isaac shifted in his seat, staring intently at the two people in front of him. "So, you found my father?"

"Yes, he was found at King's Daughters Medical Center in Ashland," Brennan answered.

"Is he...um...is he okay?" Noah asked.

"No, he's dead," Brennan replied.

Isaac moved his hand to cradle his head as he let tears fall down his face.

"I'm very sorry for your loss," Booth said. "I know this is difficult, but could you answer a few questions for us."

Isaac nodded his head. "Sure, anything to help."

"Did your father have any enemies?" Booth questioned.

Isaac shook his head. "Not really. He was a good man. Though, he is...was...in the middle of a lawsuit against the hospital."

"Really, what for?" Brennan asked.

Isaac took out his wallet and pulled out a picture, handing it to Dr. Brennan. "That was my mom, Sarah. She...uh...she got into a pretty bad car wreck a few months back. EMTs took her to King's Daughters. She died on the operating table."

"I'm so sorry," Brennan said.

"That must've been very difficult for you and your father," Booth stated. "After your mother's death, did your father show any signs of depression?"

Isaac's eyes widened in disbelief. "Of course he did! He lost his _wife_, due to that damn hospital's inability to save lives."

"I think, what Agent Booth meant to ask was whether or not your father displayed any suicidal behavior," Brennan interrupted.

"Suicide? You think my father killed himself?"

"Yes, that is my assessment," Brennan agreed.

"I mean, he definitely was sad enough to do it," Isaac stated. "After mom...well he wasn't the same person he was before, you know? So, he killed himself inside of the hospital?"

"No," Brennan corrected. "He killed himself, and was then moved into the hospital's morgue and light on fire."

"Bones!" Booth scolded.

Brennan rolled her eyes. "What?"

"A little tact? This is his father we're talking about," Booth whispered loudly, gesturing towards Isaac.

"He deserves to know the truth," Brennan argued.

"She's right," Isaac agreed. "I'm glad you told me. Who would do that to him?"

"That's what we're trying to find out."

oOo

After sitting with Isaac for a while longer, Booth and Brennan drove back to the hospital to look into Sarah Shepherd's death.

"I find this to be a very interesting case," Brennan said as they were crossing over the river that served as the border of Ohio and Kentucky.

"How so?" Booth asked, quickly glancing over to Brennan.

"Well, you must've noticed the biblical connections," Brennan stated. "I would've assumed that you picked up on those immediately, given your strict Catholic upbringing."

"Can we please not talk about religion?" Booth asked. "These conversations never end well between us."

"What? I'm simply curious," Brennan replied. "I have read multiple religious texts; ranging from the Bible, the Qur'an, the Vedic texts, the Bhagavad Gita, and not to mention the Tibetan Kangyur. I may not believe in these myths, but I'm willing to try to understand them."

"See, that. Right there. That's why these conversations never end well," Booth said, narrowing his eyes at Brennan. "Christianity is not a myth, Bones!"

"I understand that you feel that way," Brennan said. "But that doesn't change the fact that religion was created by those in power as a way to keep the commoners under their control by relaying stories about morals and the goodwill involved with blindly following a greater power."

Booth didn't reply to her, his anger making it difficult to speak. He merely stared straight ahead, focusing on driving back to the hospital.

"The victim's name is Abraham, who is a very important figure in religion," Brennan explained. "Three major religions, the Abrahamic religions of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, all trace their origin to Abraham. Abraham was a shepherd, who also had a wife named Sarah; much like our victim."

"Yeah, I'm aware of that," Booth said as his anger dissipated slightly now that Brennan had stopped discrediting his religion.

"And the victim's son is named Isaac, who is also an important figure in Abrahamic traditions. According to these religious faiths, Issac is Abraham and Sarah's only child," Brennan continued. "It's fascinating how closely our victim's family resembles the story provided by the Abrahamic faiths."

"They're just names, Bones," Booth said, hoping to dismiss the topic. "We're in the bible belt. I wouldn't expect to find anything less then biblical names to be commonly found in the general population."

"It's still fascinating," Brennan smiled, before becoming instantly serious. "You know, Christians believe that God commanded Abraham to sacrifice his son, Isaac. He was going to go through with it before God intervened."

"Yeah, it was a test, Bones," Booth explained. "God was testing him."

Brennan looked down to her lap, considering whether or not to pursue her next line of questioning.

Booth, noticing that something was bothering Brennan, encouraged her to talk to him. "What is it, Bones?"

"Would you...do that?" Brennan quietly asked.

"Do what?" Booth questioned, suddenly confused.

"If you believed that God was testing you...that he asked you to sacrifice one of your children, would you?"

Booth's eyes widened at Brennan's statement, and he abruptly pulled the car to a stop in a nearby parking lot. "Bones, look at me."

Brennan shook her head, focusing her gaze out the passenger side window.

Booth reached over and took Brennan's hand in his own. "Bones, come on. Look at me."

With her free hand, Brennan reached up and wiped away a tear that had fallen down her cheek. She then turned her attention to Booth. "You know what, forget I asked. I don't want to know the answer."

"Bones-"

"Just drive, Booth."

Booth let go of Brennan's hand, and reached to the keys in the ignition. He was about to turn the car back on, but he changed his mind. "You know what, Bones. You need to hear this. I would NEVER sacrifice any of my children. It doesn't matter who asked me, or what the circumstances are. I would never do it, Bones. Never."

Brennan saw the sincerity of his statement shining in his eyes. "I believe you."

"Good," Booth said. He reached for the keys in the ignition and turned the car back on. Before switching the car into drive, he mumbled, "I really wish you wouldn't doubt me like that, Bones."


	21. Positing a Scenario, Religion & Murder

**AN: I don't like this chapter. But that's okay, b/c I've been busy doing real life stuff like officially becoming a California resident...YAY! Oh, and I've been busy baking. I've got a batch of cookie brownies, Mississippi Mud bars, and two dozen cookies to prove it! But that doesn't change the fact that I still dislike this chapter, except for maybe the first paragraph. I quite like that one! Now read on...**

Chapter 21:

Saying goodbye is never easy. Nor is it a pleasant experience. Oftentimes, goodbyes are filled with tears, the exchange of words of love and encouragement, and the offer of empty promises. Nobody enjoys saying goodbye, yet it is a situation that is never easily avoided. Goodbyes are inevitable. But every goodbye provides an opportunity to offer up a glimmer of hope; the hope for a brand new start, a clean slate. So that's what she did. By kissing Vincent at the airport, Morgan gave him hope for the future he once dreamed of in the past.

The afternoon had went fairly well, as far as she could be concerned. She spent a pleasant morning with Vincent, before taking him to the airport. Dr. Sweets, though much younger than she had anticipated, seemed like a nice guy whom is good at his job. Despite the fact that his job dabbles into the realm of a soft science.

But mostly, she was glad that Vincent had the opportunity to meet Riley. It could have gone terribly wrong. But, thankfully, that wasn't the case. For whatever reason, it seemed important to her that Vincent approved of Riley. And despite some slight tension between the two men, their meeting seemed to flow smoothly.

The only thing that bothered Morgan was the fact that Riley became somewhat possessive of her. He would answer questions on her behalf before she had the chance to speak up on her own. He also increased the level of intimate physical contact between them as the afternoon had progressed. To state it mildly, Riley certainly wasn't afraid of public displays of affection. Normally, it may not have bothered her. But, today, Morgan found herself upset by the fact that Vincent was present to witness these events. She could easily see the hurt and discomfort written on his face at the sight of these actions.

"What's on your mind, Rose?" Riley asked, interrupting Morgan from her thoughts.

Morgan was unsure of where to start. A part of her wanted to set Riley straight, starting with the issue of her identity. She was Morgan, not Rose. But at the same time, she _was_ Rose. At least here, with him, that's who she was. But instead of dealing with her identity issues, she decided to confront Riley on his behavior. "Why were you acting so weirdly, earlier?"

"What do you mean?" Riley asked, already knowing what she was referring to.

"Ri," Morgan sighed. "Did you have to be so clingy while we were at the airport? Were ya...were ya _threatened_ by my past with Vincent?"

Riley tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He wasn't proud of his earlier behavior. And yes, he did feel threatened. "I'm sorry, Rose, but you don't know what you're getting yourself into there."

"Now what, exactly, is that supposed to mean?" Morgan asked. "Vincent is a nice guy, Ri. I thought you'd be happy to know that. To get first hand knowledge of it. It's why I wanted ya to meet him."

"He is a nice guy," Riley admitted, somewhat reluctantly. "He is. But he's not the right one for you. You deserve better, and I'm that guy."

"Really!" Morgan scoffed. "You don't even know him!"

"I just don't want you to feel pressured by him," Riley explained. "Before...you know...what happened to you, you were in a serious relationship with the guy. You told me this yourself. I just don't want you to feel pressured to pick things up where they left off."

"He's not pressuring me to do that," Morgan said. "In fact, he left because he realizes that I need space to figure things out."

"Well, then I'm sorry," Riley said.

Morgan nodded her head. "He's a sweet guy, who after 2 years, still loves me."

"He told you that?" Riley choked out. "That he loves you?"

"Yeah," Morgan admitted.

Riley sat in silence, digesting this new information. After a few moments, he decided to voice his own feelings. "He's not the only one, you know."

"Only one, what?" Morgan questioned.

"Who loves you," Riley answered. He reached over and grabbed Morgan's hand. "Listen, I just want you to know that there are people who care about you. I'm one of them. And I'll be here for you whenever you want me."

Morgan blushed. "Thank you. I...I care for ya, too."

Riley pulled his car into the employee parking lot at the hospital. He turned his emerald green eyes on Morgan, staring at her intently and somewhat nervously. "Are you still mad at me?"

Morgan smiled and shook her head. "Not so much. Just don't act that way anymore. I don't belong to anybody. I don't need anybody to protect me. But I do need to sort things out for myself."

The two of them climbed out of Riley's car and walked towards the entrance of the hospital. Morgan stepped closer to him and grabbed onto his hand, lacing her fingers with his.

"So, when do ya get off shift tonight?" Morgan asked.

Riley shrugged. "I'm done at 11, unless they need me to stay longer."

"Do you have plans after?"

Riley shook his head. "Nope."

"How about you stop by Maggie's place on your way home and pick me up?" Morgan suggested. "I can cook you a late dinner. Then we can chill out, watch a movie."

"Sounds real nice, Rose," Riley agreed. "I look forward to that."

Morgan smiled and leaned up to place a kiss on Riley's cheek. "Alright, call me when you're on your way over."

"I will," Riley said. He smiled and then made his way inside the elevator which would take him up to the maternity ward. He waved at Morgan as the doors closed.

Morgan released a breath she didn't know she was holding. Riley had been right about one thing. She _didn't_ know what she was getting herself into. Everything was just so confusing. She needed someone to talk to, but she didn't know who that someone should be.

Knowing it was shift change, Morgan made her way over to the admissions counter of the ER, hoping to catch Maggie before she left for the day. As she arrived, she saw Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan huddled around the admissions desk talk to Maggie.

"Hey, Dr. Brennan. Agent Booth," Morgan greeted as she approached the trio. She looked between Maggie and the two she had previously greeted. "What's going on here?"

"Agent Booth wants to look at our hospital records, for a car accident victim," Maggie answered as she took in the girl's troubled appearance. "Honey, you're lookin a lil' down. How'd everything go at the airport?"

Morgan forced a smile. "Things were...stressful. Riley stopped by. He was...you know...protective, and stuff."

"Well, ya know," Maggie started, wrapping an arm around Morgan's shoulders, "when ya got two young, adult males competing for a girl's affections, there's bound to be a testosterone spill somewhere along the line."

Morgan smiled. "You could say that."

"How is Mr. Nigel-Murray doing?" Brennan asked. "You know, minus his increased testosterone levels."

"He seemed fine," Morgan answered. "Dr. Sweets seems like he can handle any problems that might pop up."

"Yeah, Sweets is good at that kind of thing," Booth said, lifting his eyes up from the folder in his hands. He turned his attention to Maggie. "Is this all you have on Sarah Shepherd?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Maggie said. "She was barely alive when she was brought in here. She flatlined twice on the drive over. You see, this is a Level IV trauma center. We're equipped to handle a large number of emergencies, but we were unable to handle the severity of Mrs. Shepherd's injuries. She died on the table."

"Oh, I remember that one," Morgan stated. "Her husband was inconsolable."

"You knew Mr. Shepherd?" Booth questioned.

"I only met him the one time," Morgan answered. "Why?"

"Mr. Shepherd is our victim," Brennan explained. "He committed suicide. But somebody brought his body to the morgue and started the fire."

"Somebody with a grudge against the hospital, maybe?" Morgan asked. "If Mr. Shepherd committed suicide, then it was probably due to depression caused by his wife's death. He blamed the hospital for her death, ya know. He has that lawsuit, right Maggie?" Morgan looked over to Maggie for confirmation, which she received in the form of a nod. "So maybe somebody else also blames the hospital for Sarah Shepherd's death, and in effect, Mr. Shepherd's death as well."

Brennan's eyes widened. "Booth, his son."

"Isaac?" Booth questioned. "He's just a distraught kid."

"Who lost both of his parents because this hospital failed to save his mother's life," Brennan pointed out.

"So he desecrated his own father's remains?" Booth said, some of his earlier, unresovled irritation with Brennan beginning to resurface. "I highly doubt that."

"If he did it as an act of protest," Brennan explained. "He may not have viewed it as desecration, and therefore may have been more comfortable performing the act."

"I just don't know," Booth countered. "I didn't get that kind of vibe from him. If he had done it, I would know."

"Booth, that's illogical," Brennan scolded. "You can't rely on your gut for everything. That's just guesswork."

"Oh, and saying the kid did it with no real evidence is what, based on fact?" Booth snapped.

"No, it's an intuitive leap based upon the knowledge that the Shepherd family blamed the hospital for Sarah Shepherd's death," Brennan defended, her voice rising in reaction to Booth's anger.

"Right, because that's so much better than guessing," Booth scoffed.

Brennan crossed her arms over her chest and raised her eyebrows at Booth's behavior. "It's only logical that if Abraham Shepherd killed himself due to grief over the loss of his wife, then their son would extend the hospital's blame onto his father's death as well. I was merely positing a scenario in which we should provide further investigation."

"Isaac Shepherd is a good kid," Booth argued. "Good people don't take a dead person's body and light it on fire."

"Booth, you met the boy once," Brennan stated. "What makes you in any way qualified to say that he's a good kid?"

Booth exhaled loudly and clenched his fists in barely contained anger.

Brennan's eyes bore into his own, seeking to understand why he became so upset with her.

"Is this because of the whole religion thing?" Brennan asked, understanding starting to dawn upon her.

"Don't start," Booth warned. "I think we've discussed that enough for one day."

Morgan watched this entire scene unfold with widened eyes. She couldn't believe how out of control the argument between Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan had gotten. Maggie had slipped silently away, offering up some semblance of privacy in the busy emergency room.

Brennan nodded her head, her voice softening as she spoke. "I see. I'm sorry that I upset you earlier, but I'm not going to change my mind about religion. And just because a person or family has religious artifacts and iconography on display throughout their home does not necessarily mean they're a good person."

Booth scoffed. "No, you don't understand, Bones. You think that because a person has faith in something other than science and logic that they are capable of doing-"

"Agent Booth," Morgan said, deciding to step in to help end the argument. "I don't think that's what she means."

Booth looked briefly at Morgan before he brought his eyes upon Brennan once more. "How could you have doubted me like that, Bones?"

Brennan was momentarily confused. "I would never doubt you, Booth."

"Yeah, you did," Booth said. "You practically told me that you believed that I would murder my children."

"What!" Morgan squeaked, shock momentarily taking control. "I can't believe you told him that, Dr. Brennan."

"That's not what I meant," Brennan tried to explain. She took a step closer to Booth, but he backed away. "I know you would never intentionally harm Lily, or Parker."

"Then why-" Booth started.

"It bothers me sometimes," Brennan stated, her eyes glistening with tears. "Try as I might, but I just simply don't understand how intelligent people can believe in the existence of a greater power. Sometimes...sometimes I even envy your ability to have faith in something without empirical evidence. And it worries me, because I...I just don't understand."

"Bones-" Booth said, taking a step closer to his wife in an attempt to offer comfort. His anger had pretty much dissipated the moment her soulful blue eyes started shedding tears.

"No," Brennan said, rejecting his embrace. "I know that religion is a difficult subject for us to discuss, and I'm sorry that I even brought it up. But, I really think we should look into Isaac Shepherd as a possible suspect."

"I think she's right," Morgan said, throwing her two cents into the conversation. "So what, the kid's a practicing Christian. So were John Wayne Gacy, Ted Bundy, and Ed Gein. And they did much worse things than lighting a dead guy on fire. In fact, most serial killers were raised on strict religious backgrounds."

"Don't you start on religion," Booth warned, turning around to face the girl.

"I'm not," Morgan said, laughing. "I live with a hardcore dedicated Baptist. I know better than to speak ill of religious beliefs. I've gone to church every Sunday for the past two years. Maybe longer, but I can't remember."

"She's correct, though," Brennan added. "About most serial killers being raised on a strict religious upbringing."

The glare Booth gave her was enough to make her realize that she had, once again, overstepped her boundaries. She gave him an apologetic look. Most of the time she enjoyed slightly provoking Booth on subjects he was uncomfortable discussing, but she knew she went too far today with her thoughts on religion. She honestly didn't mean to upset him. But, perhaps it would be best to avoid the subject all together in future conversations.

"I don't remember meeting Isaac," Morgan stated, getting back to the reason for Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan's visit. "So I can't offer any first hand knowledge about him; but, like I said, I think it's worth it for you guys to look in to."

"Alright, we'll do that," Booth sighed. He looked up at the ceiling, a security camera catching his eye. "What about security tapes? They must've caught something."

"I can introduce ya to the security company's supervisor," Morgan said. "But I'm not sure if you'll get anything. There are no cameras down in the morgue. They're only in the public areas of the hospital. And there are several areas within the hospital, as well as out back in the alleyway, that aren't covered by the cameras."

"Okay, well it's a start," Booth said. "Maybe we'll get lucky and find something on them. What about surrounding businesses? They must have cameras too."

"True," Brennan agreed. "It's standard practice for businesses to protect themselves by installing surveillance equipment. Booth, you can go speak with hospital security and I'll give Angela a call to inform her that she should expect to receive surveillance footage sometime this evening for her to examine."

**AN: Next time we return to our friends in DC. After that, we return to Kentucky where Morgan heads out for an evening with Riley. B/B will make an arrest, successfully closing the case. And then we'll bring the entire team back together in DC for the trial (which is planned to last a few chapters). Will Morgan testify, and what would happen if she does? Will Tristian be set free, based on a technicality or lack of evidence? Or will the team get a successful conviction? And if so, what are Tristian's plans for revenge (b/c we all know he has them!)? I'm thinking maybe around 10-15 chapters left to go...**


	22. Plan B and Nevada Perez

**AN: I just want to say that my thoughts and prayers are going out right now to the family of a sweet little girl who passed away from leukemia this week. Her auntie was my best friend for quite a large chunk of my childhood. Heaven has one more angel watching over the world.**

**Sorry I didn't reply to any reviews from last chapter. I do read them all, and they are awesome! It keeps me motivated to write!**

**So...uhhh...yeah...**

Chapter 22:

The setting sun cast colorful rays of light through the tiny window across from his cell. The reds, yellows, and oranges painted a lively picture against the dull, concrete walls that surrounded three sides of the 6x9 foot room. Two-inch thick metal bars separated his room from the main thoroughfare of the death row cell block. He sat on the foot of of an extremely uncomfortable bed, a small blanket lay folded atop of his pillow on the opposite side. Next to the bed stood a stainless steel sink; a matching toilet on the other side. The room smelled of dust, sweat, and urine.

Oh, how he hated this room. It was the epitome of all things he abhorred.

When he first arrived to the prison, the only time he was allowed to leave his cell was for a shower, an 8 minute escape from the monotony of staring at the wall. After he was placed into his permanent cell (about 2 weeks after his arrival), he quickly learned the hell his daily life would become. Breakfast would arrive at exactly 6:30 every morning. Lunch was an 'unofficial' meal handed out in a paper bag, usually consisting solely of bread and a lunch meat of unknown origin. Dinner was handed out at 7:00 every evening.

About an hour after breakfast was provided, the guards came by to let prisoners out into the yard. Any prisoner seeking this temporary release from their cell would undergo a very thorough strip search. He decided very quickly that he'd rather spend his time in a cell instead of the yard. It just wasn't worth the humiliation to go spend a few minutes outside with 60-70 other inmates whom were prone to violent outbreaks. And the guards liked to use their guns in an attempt to control those fights. Even though the guards weren't shooting directly at them, there were several instances where prisoners _were_ on the receiving end of a bullet.

No, he didn't need to deal with all of that crap. So he chose to spend his time in his cell, thinking. He was an intellectual. Thinking was what he did best. He usually spent the days napping. He spent his nights, awake, sitting on his bed, deep in thought. The noise level of the prison decreased dramatically during the late night hours, so it was much easier for him to think without distraction. Occasionally, another prisoner would start screaming in the dark of night, but it was always short lived. And he continued to think. Think about what he'd done, how to improve things. Think about Dr. Brennan, how to make the most of his revenge. Think of life outside of the prison walls, how sweet it would be to once again walk as a free man.

That's how he knew exactly what needed to happen during his appeals to be acquitted of all charges. And if that failed, he had a well thought out Plan B.

There was no way in hell he was going to continue his stay in prison. He needed to get out. Freedom is a very precious thing, one he aimed to acquire by any means necessary. His lawyers have been working tirelessly on his appeals. Jada Dumaine, a young african american female, is the head of his legal team. She was the brightest law student in her class, landing a job at one of the top law firms immediately upon her graduation. Fortunately, his uncle worked for the same law firm. Uncle Frank, an admittedly brilliant man, just happened to be Jada Dumaine's right hand man. He had visited the prison at least once per week for the past two years.

"Howards," an approaching prison guard yelled. "Get up! Your lawyer is here."

Tristian threw his legs onto the floor, looking at the prison guards with disgust. He knew the routine. Stand up. Keep his hands where they could be seen at all times. One guard unlocks the door of the cell while another, unarmed, guard walks in holding the handcuffs and ankle chains. He gets chained up, a little too tightly. And the guards walk him down the grimy, brick hallways until they reach their destination.

Sometimes it'd be for a meeting with the wardon. Sometimes, he'd meet with one of the several psychologists asked to evaluate his sanity. There were a few times that he'd been brought into a room to speak with any civilian visitors he had. There weren't many, minus his mother and Uncle Frank. And how could he forget the many visits he received from the very lovely Dr. Brennan. He enjoyed those visits the most. Oh, how he couldn't wait to be alone with her again.

Each time he was let out of his cell, the guards enjoyed roughing him up a bit along the way to their destination. They'd trip him if he walked too fast. He'd be shoved into the walls should he walk too slow. They'd 'accidently' elbow him, hard, in either the face or the ribs.

He hated this place. And he couldn't wait to get out, one way or another.

This time, it was his lawyer sitting at the metal table in the small visitor's room. Tristian raised his eyebrows in an unspoken question to his lawyer, whom smiled and nodded his head in return. The guards unchained Tristian and quietly left the room to offer some privacy between the inmate and his attorney.

"Good news?" Tristian asked, once the door was closed and they were finally alone.

"Sure is, kiddo," the man smiled at his client, whom also happened to be his only nephew. "I just got out of a meeting with the judge, prosecutor, and ADA."

"And?" Tristian prompted.

"Although you should just feel grateful that you were lucky enough to just have been granted an appeal to begin with," his uncle explained, "I was successfully able to persuade the judge to move up the trial date, despite protests from both Caroline Julian and ADA Montgomery."

Tristian breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Uncle Frank. When is it?"

"Monday," Frank smiled. "That gives us 5 days to prepare. And lucky for you, Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan are currently out of town on a case. But unfortunately, the prosecution has apparently drudged up a witness."

"A witness?" Tristian smiled, already knowing who that witness would be.

"Yes," Frank nodded. "But we can work that in our favor. From what I gather, the witness...a Ms. Morgan Johnson...had been officially declared deceased nearly two years ago and was said to be a victim of the crime you were convicted of. With her now found to be alive, we can challenge the prosecution's credibility on all matters regarding the evidence."

"They were wrong once," Tristian agreed, a cocky grin on his face, "they could very well be wrong again. They've got no credibility."

"And we'll make sure the panel of judges knows this," Frank continued. "Now, they're still aiming that Ms. Johnson _was_ a victim of a crime perpetrated by you; but, as I understand it, she's having memory lapses. Apparently there is a great deal of time she cannot account for. Ms. Julian has added her to the list of people testifying, but she'll have to undergo a psychological evaluation first. We can use that against her. The FBI psychologist, a Dr. Sweets, will be performing the psychological evaluation for the prosecution. Jada is in the process of procuring a psychologist for the defense to evaluate Ms. Johnson's condition."

"I'm sure Ms. Johnson won't be a problem," Tristian smiled, overly confident. "However, it is quite unfortunate that she'll be testifying."

"This actually bodes very well for you, Tristian," Uncle Frank assured him. "And, should everything go as planned, you'll be released by the end of next week. With the lack of evidence, we'll definitely be able to overturn your conviction."

"Good," Tristian replied. "Thank you, Uncle Frank."

"Anything for my nephew," Frank smiled. "We've got an evidentiary hearing on Friday, so there is a small chance you could be released then."

"I'm sure the prosecution won't let it end that easily," Tristian scoffed. He was quite for a moment before voicing his next thought aloud. "Um...if things _shouldn't_ go as planned..."

"Then all the appropriate steps have been taken for the successful execution of Plan B," Frank answered.

oOo

Back at the lab, the squints were crowded around one of the computers on the on the platform, listening as Angela explained her findings on the identity of the victim that had previously been identified as Morgan.

"Alright, so I ran our new findings through missing persons," Angela stated, "and nothing came up. This girl has been missing for at least 2 years, and apparently no one had filed a missing person's report."

"So, basically you found nothing," Cam concluded.

"Yes," Angela admitted. "But I wasn't willing to give up so easily. Somebody, somewhere has to be missing this girl. It's just too sad to think otherwise."

Hodgins walked closer to Angela, wrapping his arm around her waist. "That's what I love about you, Angie."

Angela smiled in reply, then continued to explain her findings. "I figured, because of her age, that I should check into children whom recently aged out of the foster system. The skull was pretty damaged, but I managed to create a general likeness to run through the program."

"If she had no real family, it would certainly explain why there wasn't a report filed," Cam agreed. "But a general likeness search would most likely yield multiple candidates."

"There were a few matches," Angela admitted. She pulled up four photos. "Kailee Burch. Kristina Ortiz. Megan DeSoto. And Nevada Perez."

"These appear to be a match to our victim. How accurate are these results?" Cam questioned.

"Fairly accurate," Angela said.

"Excellent work, Angela," Cam commended. "Send this over to the FBI."

"There's more," Angela grinned. She turned to the computer and pulled open a file. "I checked into these girls, just to see if there's been any recent activity. Kailee Burch is currently a waitress at Cantina Marina. Kristina Ortiz has recent hospital records on file; she just gave birth to a baby boy. And Megan DeSoto is an assistant at Dunlap Associates."

Cam nodded her head. "So that leaves-"

"Nevada Perez," Angela finished, pulling open a new file. "She would've been 19 when the victim was murdered."

"Get this over to Agent Perotta," Cam stated. "See if we can get medical records for Ms. Perez to compare to the remains. Hopefully, we can match-"

"Alright you brain trust genius people," Caroline's voice echoed, bouncing off the walls of the Jeffersonian, as she interrupted Cam. "I need you to get to work on the evidence for Tristian Howards' appeals. And I need it done yesterday."

"We're already on it," Cam replied. "May I ask what's the sudden hurry? We still have months before he goes on trial."

"No, you don't," Caroline answered. "Our evidentiary meeting is on Friday."

"But that's only 2 days from now!" Hodgins exclaimed.

"Yeah well, his team of defense lawyers were able to push up the date of the trial," Caroline explained. "And it starts Monday."

The team stood in shock as they absorbed this new info.

"What are y'all doing standing there?" Caroline asked. "Get to work!" Caroline turned to the computer screen that displayed the file on Nevada Perez. "What's this?"

"Possible ID on Tristian's victim," Angela answered. "Nevada Perez. I'm about to email the file to Agent Perotta."

"Good, get on that," Caroline ordered. "Do we have any word on when Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan will get back?"

Cam shook her head.

"Well, then get them on the phone or something," Caroline stated. "We need to get 'em back here before the whole world goes to hell in a hand basket."

oOo

Booth and Brennan had just returned to their motel room for the night, after speaking with head of security at the hospital and inquiring about surveillance camera footage from nearby shops and restaurants.

"You're positive Angela will be able to find something off of those security tapes?" Booth questioned, carelessly tossing his jacket over a chair in the corner of the room.

"Yes," Brennan replied dryly, "if there's something there, she'll find it."

"It's just...that's a lot of footage for her to sift through," Booth stated.

"Booth, we mailed it overnight for her," Brennan explained. "It'll arrive to the Jeffersonian tomorrow, probably before Ange even gets there. She'll have all day to start analyzing the tapes."

"Yeah, you're right," Booth said. "If we're lucky, she'll find something pretty quickly and we'll have arrests made and be home by the end of the weekend."

"Yes, I find I'm quite looking forward to that," Brennan spoke softly. "I should call Ange and check on-"

Brennan was interrupted by a beeping of her cell phone. She quickly dug it out of her purse and looked down at the message.

"It's from Cam," she informed Booth. "She want's us to set up a video conference with them."

Brennan walked to her bag and pulled out her laptop, setting it up on the desk. It took a few moments before the image loaded clearly.

_"Dr. Brennan, thank you for logging on so quickly," Cam greeted._

"Of course," Brennan replied. "Is there something you needed?"

_"Sure is, cherie," Caroline answered as she stepped into view. "I need the two of you back here. Pronto."_

"But we haven't solved the case yet," Brennan protested.

_Caroline shook her head. "Well, get it done. Quick."_

"Caroline, what's going on?" Booth asked as he walked to stand behind his wife.

_"We got a court date set for Monday," Caroline explained. "We meet with the judge in 2 days to discuss viable evidence."_

"Court?" Brennan questioned. "For which case?"

_Caroline sighed. "Tristian Howards' lawyers pulled a last minute stunt to push up his court date."_

"And it starts in 2 days?" Booth asked, alarmed. "Are we even going to be ready for that?"

_"We better be, cherie," Caroline answered. "I got the squints here working on overdrive. But we need you and the lovely doctor here to help us."_

"We sent security tapes by overnight mail to the Jeffersonian for Angela to work on," Brennan explained. "If she finds something on that, we could make an arrest."

_"I'll get working on that as soon as they arrive, sweetie," Angela's voice sounded through the speakers, despite the fact that she couldn't be seen on screen._

"If we don't get anything by tomorrow night," Booth said, "I can try to hand the case back over to the locals. They got what they need from us...well, Bones; an ID and cause of death on the victim. The rest is just case work. I'm sure they could handle it."

_"And when you come back," Caroline stated, "make sure you bring Morgan Johnson with you. We need her on the stand. And before that can happen, she needs to go through two psychological evaluations."_

"Two?" Brennan questioned. "That seems highly unnecessary."

_"One for prosecution to use, and one for the defense," Cam spoke. "It's standard protocol in situations like this."_

"Alright, I'll speak with her tomorrow," Brennan agreed.

**AN: I wrote this chapter in a few chunks. It probably reads that way. Sorry if it doesn't flow too smoothly...**


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